


In Arduis Fidelis 6

by DontAppallMeWhenImHigh



Series: In Arduis Fidelis [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abused Sherlock Holmes, Alpha Charles, Alpha John, Alpha Mycroft, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Awesome Greg Lestrade, Awesome Mrs. Hudson, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Charles Augustus Magnussen Being Creepy, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, John is a Good Friend, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Greg, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Original Character(s), Overprotective Mycroft, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Tension, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Sherlock is Not a Virgin, Sherlock-centric, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Vulnerable Sherlock, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 90
Words: 283,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontAppallMeWhenImHigh/pseuds/DontAppallMeWhenImHigh
Summary: Sherlock struggles with his new life in which he is the center of media attention and is forced to meet the nightmare of his past with CAM  head on in the fight to break his bond and win back his son.Secrets are kept and secrets are revealed.....





	1. Morning  Has  Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track is Don't Let Me Down by the Chainsmokers

Martha’s sleep had been disturbed last night but; she knew, she wouldn’t be alone in that. She doubted John, or Mycroft would have slept well and from the intermittent patter of light, unsettled footsteps across the floors of the occupied first floor rooms, she could tell that her new Omega had been up and walking around all night long.  
Time to go up and see how Sherlock was after all that upset of the night before…..

Climbing the stairs first thing in the morning was increasingly painful. Even with her joint tablets and the cod liver oil she took every day, her hip was stiffly inflexible, the days when she’d danced in the smoky red walled clubs of the West End and felt every man’s hungry eyes upon her were long gone….  
The arthritis in her hip was the reason she’d moved downstairs, though the rooms were smaller and the ceilings lower.  
Mrs Shaw from bingo had recommended some balm and Mr Chatterjee thought she should try the same herbal soothers his Auntie Geena used but you never knew what was in some of those homeopathic things.  
If it got worse she’d think again.

She was careful to give a busy little knock on the door before she opened it, calling out to make sure that Sherlock knew she was there and wouldn’t be startled. “Yoo hoo! Are you decent Sherlock?....... It’s a lovely day. All that dreadful rain is headed away from us this morning they said so on the radio… mind you the wind blew the lid of my bin up and those foxes tore open all my black bags. The bones of my Sunday roast were all over the yard, third time this month ….. I’ll pull these curtains, shall I?” She let the weak spring sunshine in.

She saw him then as he came out of the kitchen in the same clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived, some oversized dark shirt that looked several sizes too big for him and tight black jeans.  
‘John’s Sherlock’…. she still thought of him as that, even though she supposed it was wrong now there was somebody else…. was pale, leggy as a chorus girl, with the lean grace of a dancer and a lovely, sweet face...but bless him, he was thin. Huge fretful eyes and dark shadows… and he looked close to tears. Right on the edge. She could hear it in his voice when he said hello and good morning. Poor love.  
She gave him a kind, motherly smile. “There you are. I thought I heard you up and about. Now, I’m not your Housekeeper but it’s your first morning so…. bacon or poached eggs on toast?”

John nodded to the policemen guarding the door and waited as patiently as he could for his ID to be checked, it was reassuring to see that extra security Mycroft’s influence could provide in place but he wanted to see how Sherlock was coping after being on his own all night.  
The first night was always the worst.  
Very few of the Elite Omega John had bought here had been alone before. Most came from houses where servants were the norm and panicked when, for the first time, they found themselves completely alone in an unfamiliar space.  
To be alone was something so normal but, for them, it was terrifying in its strangeness. John had heard that fear of the unknown in Sherlock’s voice last night…. insisting he couldn’t stay there alone all night. The shaking running through Sherlock’s thin body when he'd found out Riddick couldn’t stay with him had affected Mycroft so badly he had been on the point of agreeing to the impossible, before John had stepped in to reinforce the decision ….. or “stick his bloody nose in” as Alan Riddick had put it!  
The sound of Sherlock slamming the bedroom door shut furiously felt like it was still ringing through John's head.  


The door was ajar, he could hear Mrs Hudson’s friendly warm chatter from the kitchen along with the sounds and smells of cooked bacon.  
“Of course my sister never looked after her skin…and just look at her now, deep wrinkles like a prune around her eyes and mouth from all those package holidays and the smoking of course. It’s all those flea radicals, they age you…”  
“Free…it’s free radicals….” Sherlock’s voice was subdued and quiet.  
“That’s what I said dear. Flea radicals…. Are you sure you wouldn't you like a poached egg on your bacon?”  
“Morning....” John could hear the laughter he was hiding in his own voice as he knocked at the door and came on in. “Any bacon and eggs left for me?”  
“ Oh John, how lovely! We’re making breakfast.” Mrs Hudson beamed.  
John had wondered if Sherlock would still be angry and resentful but he looked desperately relieved to see a familiar face ……

Mrs Hudson shooed them both through to the sitting room so she could wash up in peace. Sherlock squeezed between four of the boxes on the rug between the two armchairs and put his cup of tea on the coffee table nearest to him.  
“Mike Stamford works there. Do you remember him from school? He remembers you.”  
Sherlock dragged his anxious focus back with difficulty from some unfixed point in space and frowned. “Rugby? He played rugby with you.”  
“Yeah,” John smiled, pleased that Sherlock remembered. “That’s him. He gave up playing now though. Tore the cartilage in his knee. He said to tell you he says hello and that he got fat.”  
Now he was in the sitting room, sat across from Sherlock, John could see he wasn’t coping… to say Sherlock was agitated wouldn’t do it justice; he was tearful, unable to keep his focus. Hugging his knees into his chest with both arms in a self-comforting gesture.  
John had been expecting it and he knew Martha had, but it was harder to watch when the Omega who was panicking so badly inwardly that it couldn’t be hidden outwardly, was someone you knew and cared deeply about.

“I can help you unpack those boxes later if you want?” John kept the offer light.  
He’d seen the unopened boxes as he came through the sitting room and had been taken off guard by the sight. Mycroft had hoped the books may have made things that little bit easier and provide a distraction.  
The Sherlock he’d known would have opened the boxes out of sheer curiosity and looked through every one once he’d seen Mycroft’s handwriting on top of each but nothing had been touched. Martha had texted him to say that Sherlock hadn’t slept …. he must have walked past them all night long.

Sherlock was staring warily at the boxes. “I don’t know what’s in them.” He said it as though that explained everything.  
It wasn’t much of an answer but John was pleased to see him make any effort to talk. “Things that belonged to you. I know Mycroft spent a day choosing books and music from your old room. I put a few of my books in. Medical course books…. You’ve plenty of bookshelves here to fill.” John recalled the empty bookshelves of the sterile room Sherlock had lived in at Magnussen’s home.  
Sherlock stared at the boxes with noticeably less caution, giving a tiny nod in reply before he spoke. “Thank you …. for the books.”  
“Did Alan have any books you could read?” John forced himself to ask. Calling the man by his name as if they knew and liked each other felt strange.  
Sherlock looked back at the door, distracted enough to answer without thinking. “Porn…. We acted it out….”  
John’s mouth dropped open.... What the Hell!  
Sherlock flushed beet. “Not …like that! We didn’t …He didn’t …” He looked embarrassed then upset. ”Like reading a play, making it funny…. He isn’t like that…. It was my idea.” He finished defensively.  
John made himself smile and change the subject.….

“Mrs Hudson used to be a dancer?” Sherlock sounded certain.  
“She did yeah….in the West End.” John smiled remembering when Sherlock deduced everything. “How did you deduce that?”  
“I didn’t…she had photos on her mantelpiece in a feathered head dress and spangles…. I saw.” It wasn’t wholly true but Sherlock felt too exhausted to explain how he could read it in the way she applied her make up a little too heavily as though it still needed to be seen from a distance and in the way she still held her body….straight spine , shoulders back , chin up and neck elongated.  
“You still do that though…. deductions?“ John had never forgotten how effortlessly Sherlock had recounted almost every detail of his day pieced together from nothing but what he could see.  
“Sometimes….” Sherlock answered reluctantly. “It just happens. I don’t say it as much.”  
“You should. I thought it was incredible, amazing….” John admitted.  
Sherlock blinked, surprised and looked down before he spoke. “Charles didn’t think so.”

Alan was not having a good fucking morning.…. his room smelt stale and empty without the Elite Omega’s subtle sweet vanilla scent perfuming the air. Guilt at agreeing to leave Sherlock's side had kept him awake most of the night and he missed the quiet morning routine of waking up next to Sherlock’s warm body.  
The toiletries shelf in the bathroom was empty and Alan had nothing with him. He did the best he could, rinsing his mouth around with water.  
He didn’t even have a sodding toothbrush or a razor blade and he’d been wearing the same clothes since the fight at the clinic. The front was splattered with dried blood, his own and the other man’s…the man he’d killed.  
Hell, he’d hugged Sherlock to his chest against that mess…. Time to clean himself up.  
Alan asked at the small reception desk which way the stores were and upon learning they were twenty minutes away on foot, decided he’d walk it.  
The traffic was loud and the paths wider than they were up North …. As he got closer to Oxford Street he had to slow his long stride as the pavement grew more crowded with blank faced, busy people. Sad looking pigeons scuttled in and out of the legs of those walking by picking at anything that looked edible; from the remains of a burger to chewing gum on the pavement and he’d spotted a couple of poor homeless sods asleep in doorways on large pieces of cardboard, within touching distance of the people walking by them as though they didn’t see, some even made a point of glancing away.  
Alan sighed…. Bloody city! Nobody cared about anybody they didn’t know.  
As he stepped around a group of happy Japanese tourists, the huge teddy bear and bright red heart shaped balloons and chocolate boxes of a window display caught his eye….. 

 

John’s phone buzzed with another incoming text. The first had been Saul asking John if he wanted to try the new Thai place in Covent Garden tonight. This one was a warning from Mycroft ….. ALAN RIDDICK ON HIS WAY. 

Alan looked less than thrilled to see John already there but whatever he might have said by way of hello was side-tracked by Sherlock who uncurled his long limbs furiously from his chair and demanded “Where have you been?”  
“Sorry. I needed clothes and some….” In all the arrangements and stresses of yesterday the fact that Alan had no luggage and was splattered in dried blood had been completely overlooked.  
John’s eyes widened as Sherlock closed in on Alan and began pulling at the zips of his ski jacket, halfway through his explanation. “You promised you'd be here.” There was upset in Sherlock’s voice.  
“I’m sorry lad…” Alan protested as Sherlock began pulling at his jacket…. “I had no toothbrush … nothing.” Sherlock tugged at another zip… and another and pushed the jacket wide open impatiently. “I bought you something,” he added, hoping to distract the Omega.  
John saw Alan had a small Selfridges bag in one hand.  
“Chocolates? I know… white Belgian chocolate, fresh cream. Thank you.” Sherlock pushed closer. Single minded. Determined.  
Alan blinked. “Fuck me, lad!” He looked perplexed. “How…?”  
” Easy …its Valentine’s Day and you’re romantic. It’s…. nice.” Sherlock began pulling at the zip on Alan’s new hoodie next. “God! Why are you wearing so many annoying layers! You wore less in the snow.” Sherlock complained…. there was a navy t-shirt underneath the hoodie and something else under that ….  
” It’s damp. Gets into my bones. Give me the cold any day…” A flustered Alan tried to justify why he had wrapped up but stopped when Sherlock slid long, impetuous fingers into the collar of Riddick’s t-shirt and, yanking it down, pressed his face forcefully into the neckline and breathed in so hard John could see his ribs expand….

The speechless tense silence as Alan and John confronted each other wordlessly over Sherlock’s dark head, was broken only by the sound of the Omega’s shaky inhalations as he scented what he could reach of Alan’s skin obsessively.  
Alan knew without any shadow of a doubt that his face had given his heart away from the raw flare of dark pain in the other Alpha’s eyes.

John couldn’t believe he’d ever thought Riddick’s feelings were some sort of paternal or non sexual affection.....the Alpha had bought Sherlock a Valentine’s Day gift for Christs sake and Sherlock had just scented the man right in front of him !  
He knew a pseudo bond when he saw one!  
The knowledge of what that meant rocked through him like a shot and blew him away.  
.  
This should never have happened!  
What the Hell was Riddick thinking and how far had this gone between him and Sherlock? 

Alan met John’s angry, newly aware stare with a bloody-minded defiance of his own as he put both arms round Sherlock and held on.


	2. Parenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleksander gets into trouble at school.... Charles takes advantage of the opportunity to corrupt his son further....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've left the details of exactly what Charles shows his son deliberately vague....
> 
>  
> 
> Track is Wanted More by Betsy....

“This way please Mr Magnussen. “  
Charles stood, following the Beta school nurse along a brightly walled corridor.  
Aleksander was sat on a plastic chair midway down it, his feet swinging forwards and back repetitively. There was a collection of bloody tissues upon his lap.  
A second taller, stockier child, with a face covered in freckles, was sat further along the same corridor. He was holding an ice pack to his cheek and swivelled around in his chair to stare as Magnussen and the nurse walked by.  
“Turn around and face the front please Master Tobias ….. Master Aleksander, your Father is here.” There was a trace of irritation in her voice Charles observed.  
Aleksander had been crying. He wasn’t wearing his school blazer, tie or sweater.  
“I’m afraid Aleksander vomited. That can happen following a severe nose bleed.”  
There was a white plastic bag near to the child’s feet that clearly contained the soiled items, Charles could see the stripes of his son’s school tie on top of the bag, he fixed the child with a sternly appraising stare.  
“If you would be so kind as to dispose of those?” Magnussen indicated the offending soiled items with a dismissive movement of his head.  
“Of course, Mr Magnussen. Aleksander has remained conscious at all times and the bleeding stopped once sufficient pressure was applied.”  
“ I see.”

Aleksander had stood up and was studying his feet guiltily, avoiding looking at either adult after an initial anxious glance up at his father’s severe face.  
The nurse waited for the usual embarrassed parental apologies for any nuisance caused and excuses for their child’s behaviour.  
“Follow me.“ Charles turned on his heel and strode away with Aleksander hurrying after him.

The silence inside the car on the journey home was absolute. Not a single word was spoken.

Aleksander stood before his father in his office with its view of the London skyline and held out his hands with both small palms uppermost.  
Charles raised the cane and bought it down across the child’s rounded soft palms once, with sufficient restraint to inflict a sharply stinging blow without leaving the welts he would have left on Sherlock’s skin.  
Nevertheless, Aleksander winced, cried out in pain and pulled his hands back instantly.

Charles sat himself down, placing the cane on the desk in front of him and waited for the child to compose himself.  
When the child’s sobbing and sniffing had died away Charles spoke. “Come here to me Aleksander.“ Crying had left the child’s blue eyes brighter than usual, for a moment Charles looked into them and saw Sherlock in their tearful, intense luminosity.

“Who struck the first blow?”  
“I did Fader.”  
“Good… you were dominant as befits your status. Were you provoked?” Magnussen saw innocent incomprehension in his son’s eyes, he simplified his language. “Did you have reason to strike Tobias?”  
Aleksander flushed with emotion. “He said Sherlock is a…. a …. bad word.”  
Magnussen raised an eyebrow. “What was the word he used?”  
“We’re not allowed to say it …. Mr Tilder said if we do then we have to write 100 lines every day after school for a whole month.”  
Magnussen’s voice was coldly exacting. “I will ask you one more time Aleksander. I expect an answer. What was the word?”  
Aleksander was bright red. “He said Sherlock was a…whore Omega.”  
“I see. “  
“He isn’t is he Fader? He isn’t! Tobias is a liar.” Aleksander clearly thought himself hard done by.  
Charles frowned disapprovingly at the emotion in the child’s voice. “Control yourself. An Elite Alpha should never allow his emotions to rule his head where an Omega is concerned.”  
Aleksander looked confused. “But Fader it’s a bad word about Sherlock and it’s a lie so I hit him.”

“And if it was true, what would you think of Sherlock then?“ Magnussen spoke with controlled calm.  
Aleksander’s head jerked up.  
“However beautiful an Elite Omega is Aleksander, remember they serve but one purpose. They enable the continuation of an Elite Alpha bloodline. Mine was the seed and you are my son before any other bond. All Omega are whores, Sherlock is no different to any other in that regard. In heat, he will accept any male who shows interest in mating…. however inferior such a man may be….the very definition of a whore."  
The child’s face was full of confusion.

“Why do you think I kept Sherlock safe within our home? Guarded and protected?”  
Aleksander knew the answer to this. “Because he is the most special possession you own Fader.” He was proud he remembered.  
“Very well recalled. Exactly so…but there is another reason. “ Charles drew his son closer and paused. “Do you know what an Omega heat is Aleksander?”  
The child shook his head.  
“I thought not. Those lessons are usually taught to older boys,“ Charles smiled at the indignant look on his son’s face, “but you are a clever boy and my son. Why should older boys like Tobias know more than you do?” He paused as though he was considering if Aleksander could be trusted.  
“Tobias is stupid and he fell over when I hit him.” Aleksander said passionately.  
Magnussen laughed before he stood and walked to his safe, when he turned around to face his son he held a large white box in his hands.  
“You are Aleksander Henrik Magnussen, my only son and heir…. Let Beta’s and those of lesser lineage learn later. It is time you understood the purpose of an Elite Omega…. the purpose of Sherlock’s body and how it should be used……”

 

Aleksander stared wide eyed at the table as his Fader placed everything he had shown the child carefully back into his safe.  
“Now do you understand? In his heat Sherlock, would allow any Alpha to take his body in the ways you have seen, it is a whorish state of mind in which any and all may use him. I protect him from those who would abuse him, from his own depravity and urges. His brother accepted my money for him, they sold him to me. Sherlock was 14…. when I claimed him with my bond bite and took him into my home where he can be cared for and prevented from choices that may shame him. Instead of humiliation as an Omega he has value as the carrier of the Magnussen lineage…. We care for him despite himself do we not? Even now that you know how he wants to be taken and treated? We pity him …”  
Aleksander hesitated over his words, visibly disturbed. “But why Fader? Why does he want to be hurt like that? It’s nasty.”

“You studied the blue whale last week? Why does a whale return to the ocean where it was born to give birth to its young? Instinct. It is the same for Sherlock. He has a need to be bred and to mother his own child. In heat, he presents himself willingly to me for use. Should I refuse he would beg me on his knees, such is his weakness. It would be unkind not to care for him. It is my duty as his Dominus Alpha. We must be strong and do what is needed to keep him safe. Do you understand now?”  
Aleksander nodded slowly. He still sounded a little puzzled. “Yes Fader... I think so.”  
“Good. We will talk about this again soon. You are my son. Born of his body, your birth gave him status. Outside of his place within our own family tree he would be simply a whore, any Alpha who wished to use him or breed him would do so without care….it is you and I who make certain he is looked after and kept safe.”

Charles smiled down at his son thoughtfully. “When I cane you, Aleksander do I do so in anger or from love?”  
“Love. Because I am a Magnussen and your son.” Aleksander was sure of himself.  
“Very good. I dislike doing it but it is necessary to correct your mistakes and to teach you right from wrong. My own Fader taught me the same way, with the same cane. You and I share that. One day it will no longer be necessary because you will have grown into an Alpha who knows how he should act… a man who knows that difficult choices are sometimes necessary on behalf of those we love…. Tell me truthfully, could you beat Sherlock now if he did wrong?“  
Aleksander shook his head reluctantly.” No Fader. I don’t want to make him cry.”  
“That is as it should be. You are still a child, he is your mother and you wish to protect him…. however I need to know you understand that a time is coming when I may have to make choices for him that make him cry…. if I do that then you will understand that I do so as his Alpha for his own good?”  
“Yes Fader. If he cries I’ll hug him and tell him that. Then he’ll feel better.”  
Charles smiled. “Of course …. even if it takes him time to understand. I am Sherlock’s Alpha and you are his only child… it is our duty to make sure no other Alpha thinks he can steal him away from us and use Sherlock badly”  
Aleksander nodded solemnly.

Charles held out a hand to his son and led him over to the window that overlooked the trees of Hyde Park and the sinuous glint of the river Serpentine beyond them. “One day all I own will be yours to do with as you wish…even Sherlock will rely on you to care for him … You are my only son and my heir…. so tell me how would you keep Sherlock safe and make sure he is protected?  
Aleksander knew this! " I would build a castle with big walls with guns on them around it Fader and a moat full of sharks and killer whales and if anyone tried to hurt Sherlock I would shoot them and throw them into the water."  
Charles smile was empty of any emotion save a cold sterile satisfaction. " You are indeed my son....That reminds me..... Tobias....who is the boy's father? Do you know his family name Aleksander? "  
Aleksander frowned. "Carburet.... His father is an eye doctor. At a eye hospital. "  
Magnussen's smile this time showed a genuine, if cold, pleasure. " Is that so...."


	3. An Eye For An Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's uncharacteristic behaviour is a cause for concern for Mycroft.....
> 
> Magnussen strikes back in a gruesome way. Hint in the chapter title.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft in Lifestyle Sports.... sorry/ not sorry couldn't resist it!
> 
> There will be a second update that follows on from this one...should be ready to post tomorrow.  
> The next update Greg meets Sherlock , it has a different feel to this update so they didn't seem to go together to me.  
> Sorry to change the update order Blue and ta very much for the track rec! .....A Sarcastic Hello by Anni B. Sweet

Greg Lestrade had seen too many dead bodies in varied stages of undress and decay to call himself squeamish but this one had taken ' injuries sustained at the time of death ' in a whole new macabre direction. The dead man’s blood covered, sightless face would stay with him for a while he knew as he stepped outside for a breath of air.  
He was taken off guard when he saw a posh black car, with tinted windows, idling at the kerbside directly across the road from the ambulance, police cars and yellow tape that cordoned off his gory crime scene..... Mycroft Holmes……  
Crossing the road, he briefly found himself wondering what he would do if this turned out not to be Mycroft’s car but that of some random Elite Alpha; but of course, one tap of the window saw the car door opened for him.

“If you were aiming at a discrete pick up it’s a fail.” Greg said with a smile as he got into the car. Across the road beyond the tape Sally Donovan was staring, along with at least two uniformed Beta’s. All three were unrepentant gossips, it would be all around the station by breakfast time Greg knew.  
“I never attempt discretion where you are concerned Gregory. My aim is to be memorable.” Mycroft smiled.  
It was the closest Mycroft had come yet to direct flirtation and Greg would have responded readily enough yet something wasn’t right. He took a good look at the Alpha, noting the signs of strain still around his eyes and mouth.  
“Things not going well with Sherlock?”  
Mycroft didn’t deny it. Instead he pressed a button and slid the privacy screen into place. “Something seems changed but whatever it is he is at pains to disguise it from me. “ There was frustration in his voice.

“What are you seeing that isn’t making sense?” Greg was curious.  
It was a very good question. “ Changes in appetite ... he snacks constantly and he sleeps a great deal more than he used to…. On two separate occasions, I’ve arrived hoping to speak with him only to find he has gone back to bed in the middle of the day, more often he is asleep on the couch.”  
“Pre- heat?” Greg was direct.” He could be, couldn’t he? It can make anyone sleepy. I know he’s Elite but how different can they be?”  
Mycroft gave a thoughtful shake of his head. ” It isn’t scheduled yet. His scent is significantly more intense than I recall yet I am experiencing no reaction to that.”  
"Maybe he hit puberty and it changed… developed?” Greg suggested.  
“It’s possible,” Mycroft acknowledged. He didn’t seem relieved.

“He could be tired, couldn’t he? It has to be stressful for him, just being here a few days and knowing what’s ahead. I think I’d be hiding out in bed too! Apart from the sleep thing how’s he doing?”  
“He is both a trial and a delight as he always was.“ Mycroft's words were softened by a smile. “He successfully managed to frustrate John’s medical concerns yesterday by refusing to allow any bloods to be taken; like a child stamping its foot.” Mycroft had obviously found Sherlock’s obstinate refusal and John’s reaction entertaining. “Hopefully I will have more success taking him clothes shopping later this afternoon.”  
Greg grinned. “Shouldn't be too bad , he's a teenager so just pay up and let him choose what he wants. Job done. I don’t blame him about the blood tests. It can get so you feel like a glorified pin cushion as an Omega…bloods for this and more bloods for that.”

Mycroft looked astutely at Greg. “I realise I have been somewhat remiss since he returned when it came to returning your texts. I apologise. These three days have been exceptionally busy, even for me…. Would you care to meet him? I intended suggesting it sooner, had other concerns not taken precedence. He does seem somewhat outnumbered by Alpha…. Mrs Hudson is a Beta of course but… ”  
“ I understood. No apology needed but thanks for offering one. Yeah, I’m down for that…. Does he have any embarrassing brotherly anecdotes about you?“ Greg grinned at the startled look of horror that crossed Mycroft’s face.  
“I shudder to think.” Mycroft admitted.  
“That’s a yes then? This is going to be fun.” Greg was relishing the embarrassment on Mycroft's face.

“ Lunch tomorrow? I’m sure Cook would welcome the excitement of additional guests.” Mycroft suggested.  
Greg’s smile was irrepressible. “ A proper Sunday lunch?”  
“ Organic Roast beef from the Duchy of Cornwall estate I believe, with Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes of course….” Mycroft let the words trail away suggestively.  
" You had me at roast beef. Just text me a time.” Greg flashed a smile.

“Right …. I’d best get back to my eyeless corpse of an ophthalmic surgeon.  
“Eyeless?” Mycroft queried.  
“Literally,” Greg answered. “Both eyeballs cut out of the guy’s head and left on the granite worktop in his kitchen. The bond mate and their son walked in on that unholy mess would you believe! The back window had been forced and the neighbours heard some yelling but nobody called it in. Nothing looks to have been taken”  
Mycroft looked appalled. “This morning's lurid tabloid headlines?”  
“Definitely. They love a nasty murder.” Greg said ….

 

Mrs Hudson had been making a pot of tea when she’d heard the shrill sound of the alarms. The door to Sherlock’s flat was wide open and someone had clearly tried to open both windows at the front overlooking the street as the window alarm was flashing…. the police sirens were already audible as they made their way towards the flat.

A plume of smoke was coming from the toaster which was unplugged and two blackened broken bagels and a bread knife were sat on the draining board by the sink.  
Mr Riddick was stood on a chair waving a tea towel frantically under the smoke alarm and using some of the choicest language Martha had ever heard. “How the Hell was I meant to know the bloody windows can’t be opened without your ruddy brother’s say so?”  
“I did try and tell you not to open the windows without calling MI5 first.” Sherlock was breathless with laughter.  
Alan was grinning. “Was that before or after I saved you from sticking the breadknife into a plugged-in toaster lovely lad?”  
“After….” Sherlock admitted. “Nobody told me you can’t toast a whole bagel. It doesn’t say on the bag, it says can be toasted!” Sherlock’s whole voice changed when he’d been laughing Martha was delighted to hear, he sounded young and happy. “They shouldn’t fit into a toaster if you can’t toast them.” The Omega finished indignantly.

“You can toast them dear. You just need to slice them in half and pop them under a medium grill.” Martha enjoyed the look of surprise on both their faces. She handed the Alpha a broom. “Use the end of the handle to turn off that smoke alarm If you could please Mr Riddick?”  
The sirens and blue flashing lights were right outside now and there was a hammering at the front door followed by the sound of heavy booted feet coming up the stairs.  
“Oh my God…” Sherlock said in appalled, delighted awe as two firemen complete with axes and a hose appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mycroft sent firemen!”

Four hours later Mycroft found himself sat on a plastic chair in a hideously brightly lit store, in which the most dystopian music he had ever heard was playing at full volume, wondering how on earth he had ended up here watching Sherlock's socked feet under a grubby changing room door!  
Sherlock emerged in yet another enormously oversized hooded garment and a pair of tracksuit bottoms and announced with certainty. “I think I like this one.”  
“Aye, that looks well on you lad. Blue suits you.” Alan’s feedback was positive.

Dear God! Mycroft was rarely speechless but the surreal absurdity of the day so far had taken its toll. How had they come from Bond Street with its wonderful, exclusive stores full of beautifully tailored clothing to…. this? “Well? It looks .... _well _?.... If my brother wished to conceal another human being inside that hideously baggy sweatshirt with him Mr Riddick, then…and _only _then …. would I be able to agree with you!”  
Sherlock gave him a sudden shocked look then both he and Alan Riddick burst into loud inexplicable laughter ____

Mycroft felt extremely out of place in his immaculate bespoke suit, as he faced the teenage staff at the till with his platinum credit card in hand.  
Sherlock had chosen several pairs of trainers, tracksuit bottoms, the offending sweatshirt along with several equally horrendous and some T-shirts with a large logo emblazoned across the front and Mycroft couldn’t quite believe he was paying for any of this ill fitting garb.  
“He’s only a young lad you know.” There was sympathy in Riddick’s voice. “They all wear sports gear.”  
Mycroft’s pained sigh said it all….

“You don’t think you should buy a few of his tailored suits just to please him?” Alan kept his voice low so only Sherlock heard the question.  
“Can’t.” Sherlock said ruefully. “He’ll only notice when I can’t fasten the trousers up over my bump in a few months.”  
Alan smiled. “I think everyone's going to start noticing by then no matter what you wear love….”  
“I know…. you don’t suppose he’d believe a beer belly story?”  
The boy’s brother was heading their way laden with bags. “Not a hope once that 'beer belly' starts kicking seven bells out of you lad.”  
"It might be a girl." Sherlock said hopefully.  
"Yeah? I should probably have a word of warning with you about the women in the Riddick family! Bloody bunch of battle axes....every one has bigger balls than the men." Alan grinned.  
Sherlock ducked his head shyly with a sweet smile that made Alan wish he could give the Omega a kiss but that would have to wait…. The brother, Mycroft, had probably had all the shocks he could deal with for one day!


	4. The Lord's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Lunch at Mycroft's ..... things don't go entirely smoothly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock notices something about Greg's crime scene....he isn't entirely right for various reasons ....( exhausted, preoccupied, hormonal and pregnant!) ....but he is right about one very important fact he picks up on... All will be revealed later.
> 
> Mebbe.... Yorkshire speak for maybe.
> 
>  
> 
> Track is At Most A Kiss by Blossom

Greg was used to working class houses that were the usual two or three small rooms down and the same number of rooms upstairs.  
Mycroft’s Chester Street townhouse had floor upon floor of spacious, tastefully decorated rooms; all were light and bright with a pleasant scent of beeswax furniture polish and furnished with a harmonious blend of well cared for antiques. It gave each room that faded, comfortable feeling of old wealth that had been handed down from generation to generation that Greg remembered from the stately homes of the National Trust that his parents used to visit every summer. Those houses were open to the public and cordoned visitors off behind poles and ropes but despite its refined elegance this had the subtly distinct and welcoming feel of a real home.

It was strange to enter the room and look from the silver framed images of Mycroft’s brother on every surface to the real youth himself. Sherlock had kicked off his boots and had his socked feet up on the chair with both knees tucked inside the body of the oversized sweatshirt he was wearing over skinny jeans, it was such a teenage thing to do that Greg couldn’t help but smile at him.  
“Sherlock… I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Gregory Lestrade.” Mycroft made the introductions smoothly.  
Sherlock unfurled himself effortlessly in one fluid move and was on his feet. “A friend?” He seemed surprised.  
“Yes Sherlock…. a friend.” Mycroft remained unruffled. “Gregory investigated a break in here at Chester Street some months back…”  
“You’re a policeman?” The idea seemed to fascinate Sherlock. “Wait …. No … You’re a detective?”  
Greg smiled at the satisfied pride visible on Mycroft’s face at his brother’s deductive ability. “I am Yeah. Homicide…. I work at New Scotland Yard.”  
Sherlock gave a radiant smile, all blue-eyed innocence. “Were the Doctor's eyeballs really left on the kitchen worktop or did the press make that up?”  
“Sherlock! For Heaven’s sake try and refrain from being so morbidly gory on a Sunday!” Mycroft interjected.  
“It’s not morbid or gory.” Sherlock protested. “Someone died and how they died matters. Gregory wouldn’t be a detective if he didn’t think that.”

Greg laughed. Two minutes into meeting Sherlock and he could see why Mycroft’s face still hadn’t lost that doting, slightly wrong footed expression yet.  
“You can call me Greg if you want. The eyes really were there. Right next to the Magimix .” Greg could see the fascination in the teenager’s unique silver streaked eyes.  
Sherlock gave a satisfied sigh. “Why would someone do that? Cut out his eyes like that and then just leave them there?”  
“If I knew that I’d be a lot closer to having the case solved.” Greg admitted.

“I know something …..” Sherlock looked anxiously away at Mycroft as he spoke as though he was seeking approval to speak.  
“What do you know?” Greg humoured the Elite Omega by asking.  
“The window was forced open?”  
Greg nodded.  
“But whoever did this… couldn’t have entered the house that way at the right time.” Sherlock’s unusual deep blue eyes flickered nervously between Mycroft and Greg. “The dead man was killed between 9 and 10 the night before?”  
“According to forensics, no later than 10.00.” Greg agreed.  
“But there was rain and hail that night until 10.30. Strong Northerly winds and that kitchen window faces North…. it’s a sash so there’s no possibility it slammed shut in the wind. No….it wasn’t shut because it was still open when you arrived…. The curtains give it away really and the dry paint ….“ He stopped talking abruptly.

“Gives what away?” Greg had to ask.  
“Strong gusting wind, would have been blowing rain and hailstones against the window…. Those blue curtains should be wet or at least damp and the sill should be wet. Cold night ....wouldn't have dried...they clearly aren’t wet…. Unless they were and I just can’t see it on those frankly awful photo’s the paper printed?”  
“They weren’t even damp.” Greg knew because he’d taken a look out the window. He still couldn’t see what dry curtains meant.  
Sherlock looked impatient. “So…someone opened the window after 10.30 when the rain had stopped. They waited in the house after they killed him for almost half an hour. Why would they have done that? What were they doing in there when they stole nothing?"  
“Or …. brother mine, they shut the window before the rain began after entering earlier, so as not to arouse suspicion and were disturbed before they could steal anything from the house..” Mycroft saw the flaw instantly.  
“Oh….!” Sherlock was crestfallen.

Greg felt for the kid. “It was still something to notice that much detail like you just did from a blurry newspaper page! Not everyone is that observant. “ He meant it.  
Sherlock smiled but the disappointment at not finding a clue to help solve the murder didn’t leave his face…….

“Where has Mr Riddick disappeared to Sherlock?” Mycroft asked his brother.  
Greg hadn’t realised the Alpha was going to be there. Knowing Mycroft’s mixed opinion of the man it was interesting he’d invited him.  
“In the kitchen talking about Yorkshire pudding batter and tea. Did you know your Housekeeper’s from Yorkshire? You didn’t did you?” Sherlock looked down into his glass of sparkling water. “You could call him Alan, Mr Riddick makes him sound about fifty.”  
Mycroft raised his eyebrows to imply his sheer horror at the idea of that much familiarity.

 

The kitchen smelled amazing. Alan Riddick shook Greg’s hand with an agreeable smile when they met. Greg had seen him in photo’s but the reality was more powerful. Built like a brick shithouse …. as the saying went. He was a good-looking bloke, sexy even, with a striking combination of dark hair, clear blue eyes, and strongly masculine bone structure but Jesus was he intimidating. Greg reckoned it would take at least four people to take him down to the ground in an arrest.

“Alan this is Greg. Mycroft’s….’friend’…....” Sherlock announced with a wicked grin.  
The word friend as Sherlock had just pronounced it in Mycroft’s instance was heavily laden with connotations that the relationship was more than merely that. Mycroft gave a dignified, long suffering sigh that Sherlock seemed incredibly pleased he had successfully provoked.  
“Gregory Lestrade…. Alan Riddick, Sherlock’s….” Mycroft hesitated on the point of defining exactly Alan Riddick meant to his brother.  
“Lost for words blud?...My? ....What would you say you are Alan?” Sherlock said helpfully with a wicked, impudent smile, clearly enjoying Mycroft’s awkwardness.  
“Long suffering…that’s what I am.” Alan replied with a tolerant affectionate grin and Greg saw Mycroft’s mouth twitch in genuine understanding and amusement at that.

Riddick looked as much at a loss as Greg was when confronted with a formally laid table of fine linen and multiple cutlery options. Where did you even start?  
Sherlock moved his hand and without any fuss, un-noticed by Mycroft, put one long finger on the handle of the right cutlery option.  
Greg saw Alan give the Elite Omega a cheeky wink.  
Throughout the meal, Sherlock gave Alan subtle clues and Greg used them shamelessly to his own advantage.  
The class difference was marked. Sunday dinner at Greg’s house had been served with mum and dad sat on the couch eating of trays on their lap and Greg and his brothers sat around a table so small everyone’s knees where almost touching.  
This table was huge.  
Sherlock ate very little. A single roast potato, half a Yorkshire pudding and half a slice of beef.  
Despite his lean physique, Mycroft turned out to be a man who liked his food, especially roast potatoes.  
Both Greg and Alan cleared their plates. It was the most delicious beef Greg had ever tasted.

After lunch Sherlock said he wanted to show Alan the garden and both vanished down one of the winding pathways.  
“He ate so little.” Mycroft commented with obvious concern.  
Greg couldn’t deny that fact so he changed the subject. “He was quick to see what wasn’t right in that crime scene photo. What’s he plan on doing if he breaks his bond, career wise?”  
“I have absolutely no idea. It’s not been discussed.” Mycroft admitted.  
“Well I’d say he’d be a natural as a police forensics officer, or something like that.” Greg suggested. “If he’s at all interested you can give him my number. I could give him a tour of New Scotland Yard if he'd like?” 

There was an Edwardian cast iron bench under the magnolia tree in Mycroft’s garden and Alan took a seat on it and stretched out his legs. He was glad to be outside in the fresh damp air and even gladder to be alone with Sherlock.  
The lad thought so too, Alan had barely sat his arse down on the cold bench than Sherlock had flipped one of his long lean legs over Alan’s and slid both knees onto the bench either side of the Alpha’s strongly muscled thighs to kneel, facing Riddick with both arms linked round his neck.  
There was a sweet intensity to the Omega’s soft blue eyes that made Riddick’s hands move to stroke Sherlock’s sharp hip bones reverantly just as Sherlock moved his body lower and rocked his groin against Alan’s.  
“Aye, aye. What happened to my grand tour of the garden?” Alan asked teasingly.  
Sherlock made an indistinct backward pointing gesture with one hand as he pressed his lips to Alan’s own with a contented sigh and shivered. “The garden? .... It’s over…. there...trees and...grass. A lot of grass.” He said vaguely and pushed closer as Alan laughed , caught hold and kissed him until they both were breathless……

 

After lunch Mycroft excused himself to answer an urgent call. He'd seemed perturbed since Sherlock and Alan had come inside from the garden.  
On one of the large comfortable couches Sherlock was already asleep, curled on one side, head cradled in one bent arm and touching Riddick’s thigh.  
They looked so much like bond mates. Greg wondered how Mycroft wasn’t seeing it.  
“You know Mycroft’s worried Sherlock sleeps so much?”  
“He’s tired that’s all. Been through a lot.” Alan’s voice was affectionately protective.” And he’s not sleeping at night left on his own. He’d do better with company.” There was resentment in the man’s voice.

“Mr Riddick, I am fully aware that Sherlock is unused to being on his own for any extended period of time.” Mycroft’s tone revealed his irritation with the topic as he entered the room. “You’ve made your own opinions on this matter extremely clear. I would do anything to help Sherlock through this period of adjustment but what I will not do is to enable a weakness that undermines my brother.”  
“He can’t fucking sleep.” Alan was angry, Greg could hear it underlying the man’s voice. “He’s not been on his own for years and every night he’s stressed. You don’t see the state of him first thing in the morning.”  
Mycroft’s tone had taken on an annoyed sharpness. “I am aware. Sherlock will adapt given time.”  
“I’ve offered to sit up all night in the sitting room so he can sleep in the bedroom.” Alan’s kept his voice low as Sherlock stirred and came to rest again.  
Greg took a mouthful of brandy and watched the drama unfold…..

“I can assure you I only have his best interests at heart. Difficult decisions have had to be made to safeguard him…..” Mycroft attempted an explanation.  
“I’ve been living with him for the best part of a year! What is it you think I’m going to do to him that I haven’t had time and ample bloody opportunity to do already? “ Alan muttered mutinously.  
“Let me see…..Perhaps another abduction…. Removing him from the care of his loving family!” Mycroft’s voice dripped sarcasm.  
“Loving family!” Alan’s voice was rich with muted anger. “Sure about that are you?” Then he stopped dead as if he’d said too much.  
Mycroft’s shrewd gaze was fixed on the Alpha now as though he could pull the truth out of the man.  
Alan’s level belligerent stare gave nothing away.

“Sherlock is my brother.” Mycroft was furious Greg realised with a jolt, the Elite Alpha’s voice was icy with disdain even though he kept his tone low. “My responsibility, not yours Mr Riddick. I refuse to argue over him while he sleeps as though he is a possession!”  
“I’m not the one who treated him like a bloody possession! How much did Magnussen pay your family for him again?” Alan retorted fiercely. 

Mycroft rose to his feet with the aristocratic hauteur that only the Elite had. “I believe I shall enjoy my brandy in the study. Regardless of your opinion Mr Riddick I shall continue to care for my brother as I always have done… since long before you took up your current position in his life. You would be foolhardy to interfere or hinder my care of Sherlock. I wont hestitate to have you removed.”  
The threat was made with an assured power in his own influence that Greg had to admit was damn sexy in an arrogant asshole pulling rank, kind of way.  
Alan’s throaty growl smoked through his words as he answered with a tight aggressive grin. “Yeah I bet you bloody would ! Not the right class for you am I?” 

“Snobby twat.” Alan’s contempt was succinctly expressed once Mycroft had left the room.  
“It’s his kid brother.” Greg couldn’t help himself.  
“Know many Elite Alpha do you?” Alan asked flatly. “Because trust me very few of them give a flying fuck about any Omega’s they know….and that ruddy well includes family.”  
“That one does.” Greg defended Mycroft without even realising he was doing so. “Give him a break would you? Whatever it is you think you know or don’t know…. whatever crap you hinted at back there…. Mycroft loves his brother. Why else do you think you’re sat right there on his couch? It’s not because he enjoys your company is it? It’s for Sherlock. You can’t expect him to be over the moon that you’re sleeping with his little brother and you are aren't you?.” He was surprised when the gaze Riddick turned upon him held a grudging respect at Greg’s bluntness.  
“No comment, that's between Sherlock and me and nobody else.” Alan avoided acknowledging the extent of the relationship between Sherlock and himself. Greg wondered why not? “Mebbe, I can see why he'd not be best pleased …. He’ll have to get used to the idea though won’t he?” Riddick said thoughtfully.


	5. Seeking Common Ground.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aric Weber tries to get to know his client!  
> Its not at all easy....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track is Glitter and Gloss by Skott.

Aric Weber remained thoughtfully silent while he watched Mycroft Holmes struggle with the inescapable realities of his younger brother’s situation.  
“Mr Weber, Sherlock has only been home for six days…. He is struggling to cope…. Barely eating…. His sleeping pattern is disturbed. John is concerned about his health but Sherlock refuses to be examined.” Mycroft had a comprehensive list of noted concerns.  
Aric let the other Alpha talk as he prepared a pipe of tobacco calmly; his bearded face remaining placid as he lit it lovingly. While he had some degree of personal sympathy for Mycroft’s position and even more so for Sherlock’s it would be unprofessional if he allowed that to influence his work.  
“If I could perhaps accompany Sherlock….?” It was barely a question.  
Aric let out a slow exhale of smoke and with it any well-hidden signs of frustration. “Herr Holmes…. I understand that you are concerned….”  
“However…?” Mycroft was no fool, he heard the ‘but’ underlying the lawyer’s moderate words.  
Aric acknowledged the interruption with a nod and waited for Mycroft to speak his mind.

“If I could accompany him I am prepared to remain silent, my presence alone could reassure Sherlock?” Mycroft hadn’t given up.  
Aric nodded as if he accepted that was indeed a possibility, then eased back into his chair and prepared to speak his mind. “Herr Holmes…. unless we press for visitation with Aleksander promptly we run the risk that Magnussen’s legal team will claim it shows Sherlock is fundamentally unconcerned about spending time with the child. You understand how damaging that could be?” Mycroft opened his mouth to express his opinion but Aric interjected seamlessly before he could do so. “To represent Sherlock with any competence I need the opportunity to know him, to understand him. He and I will need to work closely together, as I am an Elite Alpha and a stranger to him and he is Omega we will both find that easier if we have time to develop a degree of familiarity around each other. “  
“Mr Weber… Sherlock struggles to initiate and maintain eye contact with any Alpha he does not know well.” Mycroft protested.

Aric waved a large patient hand and Mycroft fell awkwardly silent. “In our first session Herr Holmes I will try to encourage Sherlock to talk with me about his feelings regarding his son and what relationship if any he was permitted to maintain with the child while under Magnussen’s authority…. It would be a neutral topic in most instances but bearing in mind your brother’s history of severe abuse at his Alpha’s hands it may well prove to be distressing.”  
“All of which simply reinforces my viewpoint that Sherlock would benefit from my presence.” Mycroft’s tone was one of refined obstinance.  
Weber raised a quizzical brow….” And on subsequent meetings with my client Herr Holmes…. as the case progresses and the discussions become more distressing? What then? When the topics to be discussed include Sherlock’s loss of virginity to Charles Magnussen on that first bonded night …. Or Charles Magnussen’s preferred sexual practices and what pleasure if any Sherlock experienced during intercourse with his Alpha in and out of his heats?”  
Mycroft was ashen faced.

Aric filled a glass with fresh water and without a word placed it before Mycroft, pausing to allow the man time to compose himself. “It is natural that you should wish to care for and protect Sherlock from pain but you cannot shield him and win. To do that he must allow me to know the whole truth about difficult subjects … neither you; nor I suspect he, would find each other’s company to be a comfort at such revelatory times.” Aric’s voice was firmly reasonable. “I will be as mindful of his vulnerabilities as I can be…. I am not an unkind man, but you should be aware there will be occasions on which Sherlock may hate me as much as he hates this whole legal process with its exposure and its humiliations. It is unavoidable and I bear that burden. I ask you to take a step back and allow me to do my job as I know it needs to be done.”  
Mycroft felt the slight vibration in his hand as he closed it around his glass of water. Since he could not rely upon the steadiness of his voice he gave the briefest nod of assent.  
Aric’s voice was measured as he offered reassurance. “My role in this is to pick away the healing scab and expose the raw wound still beneath in order that I may use it to win the empathy of the Court. He will not welcome it. Your role is to be the one who applies salve and fresh bandages and ensures healthy healing once that is done.”

 

“I don’t understand why I have to come here to some office instead of him coming to Baker Street or why you can’t stay.“ Sherlock didn’t look back at Mycroft as he spoke, he was staring out of the tinted windows of Mycroft’s car at the glass door of Aric’s temporary offices for ten minutes now without making any move. “If you can’t come in Alan would have.”  
The sullen fear in Sherlock’s voice made Mycroft’s jaw ache as he clenched it harder to avoid saying the words Sherlock wanted him to say. “Mr Riddick can’t be at your beck and call 24 hours daily Sherlock….”  
“Yes he can…. he doesn’t mind. He even said so but you wouldn’t let him come.” Sherlock accused.  
“It’s not healthy for any friendship to be so…. co-dependant ….” Mycroft was adamant.  
“How would you know….” Sherlock said truculently. ”I don’t want to go in on my own… I want to go back to 221b”  
Mycroft inhaled sharply in through his nose with sheer frustration before reaching across Sherlock and opening the car door. “Really Sherlock! Enough of this foolishness! Stop acting like a spoilt child! Mr Weber is expecting you ….. I’ll be outside when your appointment is over.”  
He regretted being so brusque as soon as the words were spoken but it was the goad needed to trigger an angry flurry of movement as Sherlock got out of the car abruptly and slammed its door violently behind him ….

Mycroft was sat guilty and repentant stuck in heavy traffic as it inched along Strand Street when his mobile phone buzzed.  
PLEZ TELL SHERLOCK IM THINKING OF HIM. TELL HIM KEEP HIS CHIN UP…ALAN

 

First impressions….Aric Weber was heavy set with a thick beard and a small rotund belly. Sherlock didn’t mind that…. he’d have a small rotund belly soon himself.  
Aric’s dark pinstriped suit looked as expensive as Mycroft’s own but he wore a hot pink striped shirt and his wide silver tie had bright purple skulls on it.  
Sherlock couldn’t get as far as making eye contact yet…he’d stopped at the beard.  
“My lecturer once told me that I would need to tone down my dress sense and conform to be employable in any half decent law firm.” Aric said with a satisfied smile evident in his voice. “Needless to say I ignored his advice and continue to ignore it to this day.”  
Sherlock sat in the furthest corner of the grey couch and wished it wouldn’t look so bad if he started rocking. The urge to pull his knees up and hug them was so strong it scared him.

“May I light a pipe? It helps me concentrate. Some people object to the smoke?” There was an expectant silence as Aric waited for a spoken reply.  
“I don’t mind.” Sherlock said quietly.

Aric had a lot of fat files on his desk, most of which seemed to have Sherlock’s name on them and there were more in stacked, numbered legal boxes behind his desk.  
“Are they all about me?” Sherlock hated that idea.  
“The majority of them …. Yes.“ Aric laid open one of the files upon his desk and Sherlock saw a flash of bright golden hair in the school photograph that was paper clipped to its first page. “This one however concerns your son Aleksander….”  
Sherlock took a deep breath in before he spoke. “May I see the photo please?”  
Aric removed the sheet of paper from the folder and passed both it and the photo attached to it over the desk to Sherlock. “He attends a private preparatory school in Notting Hill. His monthly school report is underneath.”  
Sherlock stared down wordlessly ….. Aric saw the tremor in the Omega’s hands as they held the paper.  
“He looks different. Bigger. More of a boy than a baby.” Sherlock voice was muted. He lifted the photo and read the report underneath.  
Aric knew what Sherlock was reading … several teachers professional evaluation of an educationally bright but emotionally troubled child. Sherlock read all four pages without comment, Weber noted.  
“Can I keep the photo?... I have none.”  
“Of course. None this recent?” Aric queried.  
“None ever.” Sherlock replied flatly.  
It was a shocking admission.

“Can you really make Charles agree to allow me to see Aleksander?” Sherlock didn’t sound hopeful.  
“ The question is not will Charles agree, it's whether the Court will agree there is a need. I believe so …. With supervision, it’s not an unreasonable request…. the child is young enough to need a mother’s care and love. You wish to provide that do you not?”  
Sherlock looked up finally and Aric found himself looking into a beautiful young face in which the eyes were striking.  
“Yes…..”

“I’d like us to talk about your pregnancy …. with Aleksander?”  
“Why?” The Omega was instantly defensive.  
“Relevance…. Humour me? You had a history of miscarriages, were you pleased to be with child?”  
Sherlock sat very still, looking down at the photo he still held, he shook his head slowly in reluctant admission. ”No …. I wasn’t pleased, or happy. I thought….” His voice died away. “I knew…. he would never send me back home now he knew I could have his children.”  
"You’d hoped to be infertile?” Aric was surprised.  
Sherlock nodded.  
“So Charles wanted children?” Aric was curious. “Did he tell you so?”  
“No…. he never talked to me about anything.”  
“But you know his feelings on this? How?”  
“When he came to see me in hospital after. He said he was disappointed. Angry.”  
“ But he always came to see you? After each miscarriage?”  
“Yes.” Sherlock’s voice was unhappy. “He always came.”

 

“If I say that I wasn’t pleased to be pregnant in Court? What happens then?”  
“This isn’t Bond Court Sherlock…. You have client privilege here, there is no right or wrong answer that I wish you to give me.” Aric’s response was levelly expressed.  
Sherlock looked down and away.

“How was the pregnancy health wise?” Aric tapped out one pipe and began the makings of another.  
“I was sick a lot.”  
“And the anaemia? It was severe, wasn’t it? How did that make you feel?”  
“If you already know how I was, why are you asking me questions?”  
“To hear your answer.”  
Sherlock raised his head and stared enigmatically. “The anaemia made me feel cold, tired. I got breathless. I was tired even when I didn’t do anything.” He answered the previous question as though it had just been asked.

“Did you attend birthing classes with Charles? Agree on a birth plan.”  
Sherlock’s laugh was one of pure shock. “No.”  
“The idea amuses you?”  
“No…it’s just absurd. I didn’t go to any classes.”  
“But Charles attended the birth did he not?” Aric looked down at his notes.  
Sherlock’s shoulders were hunched. “Charles was there. He held the baby first. Is that what you wanted to know?” He sounded miserable.  
“A little more. Then we can take a break.” Aric spoke kindly.

“Did you find the birth painful?”  
“Yes.” Sherlock answered shortly, clearly thinking it was stupid Aric even asked him that.  
“Pain relief?”  
“Just gas and air….. Charles didn’t want anything stronger affecting the baby.” Sherlock wasn’t looking at Aric as he spoke.  
“You say Charles disliked the idea of pain relief because of side effects? Was that agreed upon in your birth plan?”  
“What birth plan? Nobody cared about me …. I was just there to have the baby….. Can we stop talking now?”  
“In a moment…. So, when Aleksander was born Charles held him first? When were, you given time after the birth to bond with him?”  
“I want to stop talking now.” Sherlock repeated.  
“In a moment… My secretary will be coming in on the hour with coffee and I believe there is a muffin basket. Let’s keep talking until then.” Aric was interested to see what would happen if he ignored Sherlock’s wishes to end the conversation.

“After Aleksander was born when did you first hold him or feed him Sherlock?”  
“I didn’t hold him…. I didn’t want to hold him…... I didn’t want to feed him but they said I had to do that. After six weeks, they said I didn’t have to feed him anymore and they stopped bringing him in to me for feeds.” Sherlock’s voice was barely audible.  
“What happened? Had your milk dried up?”  
“Nothing ‘happened’. He took a bottle.”  
“Was that not painful? The baby was feeding from you and then he was not?”  
“It hurt for a few days and then it went away. They bound my chest to make it happen faster.”  
“They?” Aric was making copious notes in German.  
“Dr Hoi.”  
“Magnussen’s private physician? Did he give you any medication to help?”  
“Yes it was Dr Hoi…. and no.” Sherlock was looking pointedly at the clock, the session was almost at its halfway point.  
“So you nursed Aleksander yourself until six weeks? What changed when feeding had been going well? You could have carried on? Did you want to stop?”  
“Charles wanted to leave for London. It had been six weeks.….”  
Aric frowned, again with the six weeks time frame? He sensed he was almost being told something but he wasn’t seeing what that was….

Sherlock chose a blueberry muffin and picked all the fruit out. He ate the milky froth from his coffee with a spoon and then pushed it aside untouched.

Aric changed tack. “Let’s talk about Aleksander some more?...... He didn’t travel with you on these trips to England?”  
Sherlock shook his head. “No. He always stayed in Denmark.”

“Aleksander was reared speaking both Danish and English?”  
Sherlock nodded.  
“Did you speak to Aleksander in your native tongue and Magnussen talk with the child in Danish?”  
“What…? No…. either language. He understood and spoke both fluently.”  
“Stories, games? Which language did you use when you played with him or read to him?”  
Sherlock looked like he had a headache. Two long fingers and a thumb were pressing hard on his forehead above both his eyes. “You have to understand …. I wasn’t there to read to him or play with him. I only saw Aleksander when Charles was with me; I wasn’t allowed to pick him up without permission…. I had to ask before I even touched him……”


	6. Accusations and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Riddick aren't getting along......its not really either ones fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lad....its weird the way Yorkshireman use this word. It has a few meanings....all nice....can mean a youth or a boy, or a friend . I've even heard 'my' Riddick call a pair of old ladies in their eighties lads .....
> 
> Naught....means nothing.
> 
> Track rec....Éblouie par la nuit and Tous les cris les S.O.S, both songs are by Zaz. ....Thanks Blue!

Greg had made his way to the bar but that was the easy part, the Twickenham rugby crowd was four thick in places and a lot of the guys clustered there were Alpha. He stood back until a gap opened in the thinning throng, then sidestepped an Alpha with his hands full of brimming pints and tried to catch the Beta bartenders eye.  
The young guy behind the bar gave him a nod to say he’d be right over just as the heavyset Alpha in his fifties next to Greg leant in and said “Hi…. Buy you a drink?”  
“No thanks.” Greg kept his tone friendly but firm.  
“C’mon… no need to be fucking unfriendly.” The Alpha tried again, leaning in so close Greg could smell the alcohol on the man’s breath.  
“I said no….do yourself a favour and do one mate.” Greg said tersely.  
“What can I get you?” The barman was right there.  
“Pint of lager please.”  
“Let me get that.” The Alpha was leaning on the bar now, his arm pressed to Greg’s own.  
Greg realised he’d have to tell the guy to fuck off more bluntly… annoying, no Alpha ever took rejection well even if an Omega stayed polite about it. He took a deep breath in…..

“Problem?” The newly familiar voice came from right behind Greg.  
“Just offering to buy him a drink. Didn’t know he was with you.” One look at the size of Alan in his England rugby shirt was enough to change the other Alpha’s attitude as he took a step back.  
“He’s not with me. Try using the other head to think mate…. Did you want his drink Greg?” Alan was ready to walk away if he’d misread what was going on.  
“Nope…as I said I’ve got my own.”  
“There you go, that’s you told…. piss off now.” Alan said with a blunt rudeness. The Alpha who’d been bugging Greg faded back into the crowd with a sour expression on his face.

“Pint of cider thanks lad.” Riddick spoke over Greg to the barman who was in his early twenties. “Didn’t know you were a rugby fan.”  
“Big time, three of my brothers played…. hooker, scum forward and a flanker”  
“Two of mine did…lock. We’re all big, thick skulled bastards in my family.” Alan was matter of fact as he received his pint over the bar. “Want to take a seat?“  
Greg nodded.

“How’s Sherlock, settling in?”  
“Don’t know about that. He’s been upset last few days, we’d bad news about a friend he made in Finland.” Alan sounded worried.  
“ Sorry to hear that."  
Alan acknowledged Greg’s interested concern with a nod. “Sherlock doesn’t know that many other Omega ….this has knocked him for six. They were close.”  
Mycroft bought tickets to the ballet but I’m not sure it’s what Sherlock needs. Can’t see it getting his mind off worrying.” Alan frowned and took a deep draught of his pint.  
“Sherlock’s into ballet?”  
“Yeah…he’s a cracking little dancer.” Riddick’s admiration at Sherlock’s ability was undisguised.  
That explained the eye-catching fluid way the Elite Omega moved. “Spending some time together will be good for them both.” Greg said thoughtfully.  
“Yeah….” Riddick didn’t sound so sure he thought it’d help Sherlock any.

Greg made sure he took a mouthful of beer and swallowed it before he spoke. “Mycroft only wants to help Sherlock…so does John…”  
“ Some peace and quiet is what he needs, he gets that stressed since we came here… “ Alan gave Greg a direct glance.” Mycroft aye, he’s decent. John’d maybe like a bit more than friendship with the lad, if he could get it?”  
“Meaning?” Greg asked.  
“Meaning I’m not bloody blind. He wants what I’ve got.” Alan was blunt.  
Oh shit! Bloody Hell! “John isn’t the type to take advantage.”  
Alan’s eyes moved up and fixed on Greg’s face. “Seems like he’s there a lot lately.”  
“That bothers you?”  
“You think it shouldn’t?” Alan gave a heartfelt, heavy sigh. He gestured behind Greg at the two suited agents who now accompanied him everywhere he went. “Since we got here it’s been none bloody stop people, I miss having Sherlock to myself. Just a day, start to finish him and me and nobody ruddy else, would be bloody brilliant.“

 

Alan found himself rerunning that last comment two days later when he let himself into 221b and ran up the stairs to hear John’s voice coming from inside….  
“… .I asked her where the fresh basil was and she said “Not there love….those are the bedding plants….”  
John laughed at himself readily enough, it was a likeable trait…. Alan was still getting used to hearing Sherlock laugh for somebody else….  
“Alan!” There was no hiding the happiness in Sherlock’s voice when Alan filled the doorway. “John’s here….. I’ll make some breakfast, eggs ok?.”  
“Eggs are fine.“ Alan nodded. “John….”  
“Alan….” There was an almost identical wary note in both voices.  
Riddick didn’t miss the look on John’s face as Sherlock stood up, gave Alan a hug with a whispered secret ‘love you’ that only Alan heard and went through into the kitchen.

By the time, Alan had taken off his jacket the smell of burning eggs was already obvious………  
“Sorry…. It’s the hob, it gets too hot.” Sherlock looked downcast.  
“You’re not used to cooking on it is all lad.” Alan had yet to say a bad word about Sherlock’s innate ability to burn water. “C’mon sit yourself down and eat something with me.”  
Alan didn’t miss the tight, almost resigned shake of his head John gave….

When the sound of Sherlock’s morning shower was loud enough to make whatever he said go unheard, Riddick spoke up. “You got something you want to say? What was with that headshake you gave in the kitchen?”  
“I don’t know…. What problem could I have with a genius like Sherlock making your eggs every morning, instead of …Oh I don’t know, applying to University or doing anything that isn’t waiting on you hand and foot….?” John snapped the words out sarcastically. “You got him washing your socks like some bloody fifties housewife yet, or is that next week’s little exercise in Omega domesticity!”  
Riddick drew in one long breath and John saw the flash of temper in his eyes. “Fuck you!” Alan said with a belligerently fake pleasantness to his tone. “Why don’t you try keeping your bloody nose out of other people’s business?”  
The bathroom door opened……” Alan,” Sherlock yelled. “I forgot my towel!”  
“Coming lad! I’ll bring you one in.” Alan said agreeably, his words belying the stark confrontational stare between himself and John…

In the street outside Greg Lestrade was just getting out his car when an irate looking John Watson slammed the front door to 221b behind him hard.  
“John….” Greg called out to stop the fuming Alpha just as he was about to storm past, his face set and thunderously angry. “What the Hell John?... What’s going on?”  
“Christ Almighty!” John said and Greg saw straightaway the simmering angry pain in the man’s brown eyes. “If I have to sit there and watch that bloody man fork a meal cooked and served up to him by Sherlock into his mouth just one more time…. I swear to God I’ll make him eat the bloody pan it’s been cooked in!”  
“This is about …breakfast?” Greg was genuinely stunned.  
John ran a furious hand through his short fair hair. “You have no idea how clever Sherlock is Greg…. How could you? He’s the most intelligent, unique person I’ve ever met….and that bloody great ox of an Alpha has him in there making him cups of sodding tea and cooking him eggs …. and bloody apologising for bloody burning them!”  
Greg had an uneasy sense of foreboding….” Tell me you didn’t say that to Sherlock...or Alan ?”  
“I’d never say anything to Sherlock…. it’s not his fault! Too right I damn well said something to Riddick! Why the Hell shouldn’t I Greg? It’s about bloody time someone did…. ever since he got his feet under the table everyone’s been tiptoeing around that bloody gorilla…. Saul is right about that! He’s got Sherlock in there waiting on him hand and foot for God’s sake!”

“John……” Greg interrupted. “ Tell me you didn’t just say all that to him?”  
“To Riddick….? Why not?” John was surprised.  
“Because…. it’s not true John. Sherlock told me …. he and Riddick share the cooking. Always have. Sherlock cooks one day and Alan the next. Sherlock was joking about it with me…. saying how he burns everything he touches so Alan would never get an edible meal any other way.”  
“Oh shit!” John swore in frustration……

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock knew something was the second he came into the room to put his wet towel into the washing machine.  
Alan was banging plates and pans around in the sink.... loudly.  
“Now't….”  
Alan’s whole body was tense. Sherlock could see it in the stiff set of his shoulders. He tried again “Something is…?”  
Alan turned off the tap. “Nothing you did lad.” He sounded flat.  
“But there is …something?...Why aren’t you saying? Tell me.” Sherlock couldn’t stand not knowing.  
Alan turned around and reached for Sherlock leaning his face against the Omega’s hair and breathing in slow and steady. “The cooking lad…. If it’s too much for you I can take it over.”  
“What…? Why would cooking be too much?” Sherlock sounded puzzled…. then suddenly he didn’t and his voice changed. “It’s because I burn everything isn’t it? You can’t eat it!” He was mortified.  
Alan tightened his arms around Sherlock. “No lad, it’s not that I swear…I love your cooking.”  
Sherlock snorted disbelievingly, “Now I know you’re lying.”  
Alan reached slowly up and cupped Sherlock's face carefully in both hands, thumbs tracing slow over the Omega's ivory skin. “You couldn’t be more wrong, I love the way you burn things.” Alan shook his head at the daft truth of what he was saying.

Sherlock leaned closer and Alan shifted his body to shelter the Omega's before lowering his mouth to press his lips against the perfect bone of Sherlock's temple.  
“Don’t be fretting lad, I’m just a bit tense.”  
Sherlock leant into Alan, the slim muscled shape of one long , lean thigh pushing carefully in between Alan's own until he felt the responsive hardening of Riddick's firm cock. “If you're tense….?” Sherlock said softly.  
“Mmm?” Alan's voice was throaty with arousal as he ran his nose along Sherlock’s hairline and inhaled that rich vanilla scent. His cock gave an interested throb. “What about it?”  
Sherlock moved his hips against Alan with a rocking teasing push. “I know something that will definitely help." Sherlock said and slipped his hand between them both to rub Alan's cock….

John wasn’t looking forward to this apology…. He still didn’t like Riddick but if he was wrong then he wasn’t going to leave it unsaid. 

Mrs Hudson had let him in as she left to do some shopping and the door to 221b was still open so John just gave the wood a cursory tap and went right on in.  
He couldn’t hear voices as he walked into the sitting room and rounded the corner into the kitchen….

Alan was gripping the kitchen worktop either side of him hard, eyes closed, breathing hard and frantic.  
“Christ love…. Fuck Sherlock! Go on lad.” Riddick’s voice was raw and ragged with desire.  
Sherlock’s head was moving to a slow twisting rhythm, the slick wet slide of his mouth had Alan’s knees buckling.  
"Coming .... Sherlock!" Alan forced the words out before it was too late....

 

John froze in the doorway and his shoes were straight in Alan's line of vision as a desperately aroused Alan opened his eyes to get one last look at Sherlock's mouth around his cock before he came.....


	7. Seen Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John would bleach his eyeballs if he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update because its mid-term here which means 9 days of maximum Barbie and My Little Pony saturation. My daughter's idea of amazing is shockingly pink and glittery.....

John couldn’t stop seeing it…  
The images came thick and fast.  
The fierce arousal on Riddick’s face and in his voice.  
Sherlock’s long fingers splayed wide over the Alpha’s thigh muscle.  
Every single twisting move of Sherlock’s head…. Christ….

The urge to haul Riddick away from Sherlock and lay into him with fist after fist had been overwhelming and violent…  
The obvious sickening fact that Sherlock wouldn’t want that was the only thing that had held John back…….  
There’d been no forceful hand on the back of Sherlock’s head or in his hair.  
The way Riddick had spoken to Sherlock told John they’d done that together before.  
Whatever the sexual relationship was between them…. it was consensual.  
John retched again and again, so gut wrenchingly hard it physically hurt, until his stomach was emptied.  
He felt like he’d vomited his heart up along with it.

Riddick answered the phone on the second ring when Greg called. “Yeah?”  
“Hey Alan, can you let Sherlock know I’m sorry but I have to cancel the Black Museum visit. Something came up…. I’ll reschedule soon as I can…. later this week.” Greg hated letting Sherlock down.  
“This something that came up….” Alan asked tersely. “Wouldn’t be John Watson would it?”  
Greg made sure he didn’t turn to look at John as he answered. “It would.”  
“Thought it might be.” Alan sounded none too happy. ”Sherlock’s had a tough few days. Could have done with something he’s interested in to take his mind off this visitation business.”  
Greg knew that. “I could call over later if he’ll be around? I’ve some cold case files we use during training I was going to let him look through.” There was a pause. Greg heard a door closing.  
“Aye … he’d enjoy that. What kind of cases? I don’t want to be looking at week old bodies while I’m eating my tea.” Alan sounded wary.  
“Mostly unsolved robberies. Nothing gory. I already explained that to Sherlock.”  
“Good luck with that…. Sherlock’s a habit of pushing back whatever boundaries you think he’s agreed on.”  
“Not with me he won’t.” Greg was sure of himself.  
Alan’s wry laugh showed how little he rated Greg’s chances.

“Right…what the Hell is going on John?” The Alpha had showed up at Greg’s door half an hour ago, weaving on his feet and grey faced…. he’d looked drunk but there was no way at that hour of the morning.  
“Nothing bleaching my eyeballs won’t put right.” John gave a lacklustre version of his trademark smile. “Riddick and Sherlock…. I walked right in on them ….”  
Greg put two and two together and bingo, came up with four. Oh shit! “Bloody Hell…. did they see you?”  
“Riddick did… just at the point of no return.” John sounded nauseous and Greg heard him swallow.  
“And Sherlock?”  
“Had his back to me and his focus elsewhere….”John said flatly.  
Oh fuck……“I’ll put the kettle on.” Greg said kindly.

“How the fuck is he squaring sleeping with Sherlock, Greg? After all Sherlock’s been through?” John stared down at the steaming mug of tea between his hands with a heavy head.  
“It was definitely consensual?” Greg hated having to ask. It was a depressing question given Sherlock’s past but given the Elite Omega’s reliance on Riddick he had to ask.  
“From where I was standing.” John admitted.  
“At least that’s something. Maybe they haven’t gone all the way yet.” Greg looked for a positive.  
“Yeah? That’s likely all right, given how gorgeous Sherlock is.” John said with a heavy sarcasm.

“How the Hell do you think Mycroft hasn’t guessed?” John shook his head.  
“It’s his younger brother…. In his mind, Sherlock’s still the same teenage boy Magnussen took away.” Greg was realistic. “He doesn’t see him as someone who’d want to be sexual…after everything he’s been through.”  
“Trust me,” John said bleakly, “he’s sexual.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Greg didn’t know what he’d do in John’s position.  
John’s shrug was bitter. “Have a word.” He didn’t sound enthusiastic about the prospect.  
“With which one? Riddick or Sherlock?”  
John shook his head with slow reluctance. “Christ what a mess, I’m going to have to speak to both aren’t I? I don’t even know if Sherlock’s on any proper contraception….”


	8. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and John visit Sherlock while Alan isn't there and try to convince Sherlock he should see a Doctor.... Sherlock is not co-operative!  
> Greg is the voice of practicality and wisdom as always..............
> 
> Alan goes shopping for an Elite Omega pregnancy book.  
> Mrs Hudson sees exactly why Sherlock isn't sleeping......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Porcelain by Skott.

Sherlock glared sullenly from the chair in which he was seated with both knees pulled up, defensively blocking his body from view. “I said no….”  
“Be reasonable brother mine.”  
“I am being reasonable. You are the one who isn’t. I’m not feeling ill. I don’t need to see a Doctor. Stop fussing, I’m not a child.” Sherlock said stubbornly.  
“I would do so with the greatest of satisfaction if you would merely stop behaving like one Sherlock!” Mycroft’s concise crisp pronunciation revealed his annoyance.  
“It’s just some blood work and a few basic checks Sherlock.” John said calmly.  
Sherlock glared at him. “I’m not coming back out until you are both gone.” He announced dramatically, then got up and disappeared into his bedroom with a slam of the door.  
Mycroft’s sigh was deeply frustrated. John knew just how he felt. 

 

Having heard the whole story over a lovely fresh pot of tea in the Café Royal at Mycroft’s usual table, Greg raised a questioning eyebrow as his eyes met Mycroft’s …. “Seriously? He says no and you just roll over?”  
“I did not ‘roll over’, what an absurdly inelegant phrase Gregory.” Gregory gave him another ‘you seriously believe that?’ look; that despite himself Mycroft almost smiled at. “Once Sherlock calms down we can resume the discussion…”  
“And he can exit stage left to his room again.” John said succinctly.  
“Just what do you suggest I do to prevent him John? Stand in his way and obstruct his progress?”  
This time the frustrated sigh was John’s. “You know he’s doing it on purpose. He makes a scene we back off. If a small scene doesn’t work, he makes a bigger one until it does. We both end up feeling like we bullied him. He gets his personal space back and nothing changes…. He’s playing both of us just as well as he plays that violin you bought him.”  
Mycroft’s mouth straightened. He could feel the faint beginning of a headache. There were times at which John Watson’s directness was difficult to deal with. “Gregory…. what do you suggest?”  
“That’s the easy part… You both take a leaf out of Weber’s book and talk to him somewhere that isn’t right next door to his bedroom…. Talk to him calmly somewhere where he can’t just storm off and slam a door so easily.”  
“I know just the place.” Mycroft saw the potential in Gregory’s suggestion instantly. As with all Gregory’s suggestions it was full of practical common sense.  
John nodded. ”If we get him away from Riddick we can talk him round. It's a good idea Greg." 

 

“Sherlock! Where are you lad?” Alan was instantly concerned to find the flat quiet and empty.  
“In here,” Sherlock’s tired voice came from the bedroom.  
“C’mon lazybones up you get. We’ve the place to ourselves.” Alan said with a grin, happy he had Sherlock all to himself for once. ”I’ll stick the kettle on, then you can give me a kiss.”  
“I’m already up.” Sherlock’s tired voice came from behind Alan and the Alpha turned to see the Omega leaning against the doorframe in his dressing gown and PJ’s.  
Alan put the tea cups down on the table and put his arms round Sherlock instead. He didn’t like the way the lad’s bones jutted beneath his skin again already or the stressed edge to the Omega’s scent as he breathed him in. He did like the way he could feel Sherlock doing the same and scenting back as he leant into Alan's chest with all the weight of his slim body and gave a sigh as though he was finally home.  
“Morning love.” There were dark bruised looking shadows under Sherlock’s lovely eyes and an exhausted slump to the way he stood that screamed NO SLEEP. “Christ…did you sleep at all?  
“I can’t sleep without you…you know that…. I can’t stop thinking about Lars.”  
“Aye I know love but he’s getting the best care, Mycroft said so.”  
“He was strangled…he wouldn’t need any care if I hadn’t gone back to see him. If I’d listened to you.” Sherlock couldn’t stop the guilt.  
“It’s not your fault Sherlock…. You didn’t pay for someone to hurt him, we both know who did that.” Alan said it patiently, he couldn’t convince the Omega it was true and he knew it. Riddick knew well he’d be a dead man walking if it wasn’t for the agents following him everywhere.

 

“Mycroft and John were here already.” An uncontrollable shudder made Sherlock’s voice and body shake and he gave a yawn.  
“Both of them together?” Alan didn’t like the sound of that. Especially given what he knew John had seen. “That why you were in your room with the door shut?” He knew Sherlock well....  
Sherlock nodded. He looked worried. ”They want me to see a Doctor. Let him examine me. John has Mycroft thinking I’m ill.”  
“You do look pale lad. Maybe we should get you some vitamins…. pregnancy ones. Can’t do any harm.” Riddick was thoughtful.  
“And a pregnancy book…. an Elite one? I don’t know if anything I’m feeling is normal or anything I’m doing is right.” Sherlock said.  
Alan agreed. “ Yeah. I think that’s a good idea love. Besides I’d like to know what’s going on inside you…. with the baby… and stuff.”  
“I can tell you that without a book,” Sherlock said grimly as he stood up to head for the toilet for the fifth time that morning. “Right now this inconsiderate baby is squashing my bladder so its smaller than a pea.”  
Alan hid his grin.

 

“Yoo-hoo! Only me Sherlock, I bought some lovely Danish pastries from that bakery on Marylebone High Street.” Mrs Hudson called out as soon as she’d knocked.  
“In the kitchen.” She was surprised when Sherlock answered from the kitchen, having been told that John and Mycroft would both be there. Things can’t have gone well then.  
Sherlock was sat at the table in his dressing gown and gave her a sad little smile as she clucked over him. “Goodness me sweetheart you look tired.” She placed the palm of her hand over the Omega’s pale forehead to check he wasn’t pre-heat…it should be any day now…. but if anything, he was too cold and she could feel him shivering.  
One look at the wall calendar behind Sherlock’s head told her there was another meeting with Mr Weber scheduled for today.  
“John and Mycroft were here ….and Alan, but he’s gone to the chemist.” Sherlock sounded like he was glad Mycroft and John had gone but wished Alan had stayed.  
The conversation can’t have gone smoothly. She could see he’d eaten something from the two bowls and what looked like a porridge pot soaking near the sink. There was no burning smell so someone had been here and had cooked …although that someone hadn’t washed up after himself. “I’ll wash that saucepan up for you,” she offered practically. “Why don’t you have a nice hot shower and pop on something warmer…. then I’ll make us both a fresh cup of tea?”

Sherlock sat on the floor of the shower and let the hot water stream over him without moving for a long time.  
He still felt cold. His bladder still ached and he needed yet another pee. Wonderful…  
He had to see Aric Weber later and he had no idea what questions he'd have to answer today. He couldn't even concentrate.... the heat he should have been having were he not pregnant was only days away.  
If it came then he would have lost the baby and if it didn't everyone would notice it hadn't.  
Mycroft and John would definitely find out he’d was pregnant then.  
Sherlock didn’t even want to think about the possibility of having a heat…. Alan was buying a pregnancy book and vitamins but what if his heat came…… what if his body let him down?

Alan stood in front of the pregnancy books and pulled down a couple, moving quickly in front of the mindfulness book section on the shelf next door so the agents wouldn’t see which books he was looking at.  
He flicked open book one casually and found himself looking right at a photo of child being born… Bloody Hell… it looked big enough to order a steak and chips right away and skip the milk stage. Sherlock’s babies had always been half that size.  
Book two had a strange looking photo of a baby’s face forming that looked more like an alien. Alan turned the book around in his hands and tried to work out what part of it would become a nose. He was buggered if he knew.  
Book three showed anal sex positions for every stage of pregnancy and advice on penetration angles and lubrication. It’d had been a while since they’d done that…  
Ruddy Hell! ….  
He went with book two….and secretly wished he’d bought book three with all the positions while he stood in line to pay. When he was almost at the till he changed his mind and ended up going back and buying both.  
In the chemist across the road he bought the most expensive vitamin pills and something called a Belly Massage Oil that claimed to relax. It smelt of coconut. Sherlock’s natural scent smelt better.  
He was paying when he added Omega lube to the purchase… in hope more than anything else.

 

Mrs Hudson sat comfortably on the couch watching her favourite daytime tv show and stroked Sherlock’s hair maternally as he lay quietly, curled up into a tight little ball.  
He fell asleep very slowly, almost as though he was afraid.  
It was a very good show…. plenty of advice on anti-ageing beauty routines and face treatments you could make at home for under £5.00. Connie Prince was a wonder!  
Sherlock began to move and whimper and mutter in Danish in his sleep and she moved her hand away to see if he would settle back down…. just an instant before he began to panic fearfully and fight somebody that wasn’t there……


	9. Blurt it all out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has another meeting with Weber....more than just a secret from Sherlock's past ends up being disgorged....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track O Pastor by Madredeus....thanks Blue for the rec...great fit !

Sherlock watched the bubbles rise in the water dispenser tank and felt very like the contents of his own stomach were bubbling in sympathetic synchrony along with it.  
If he vomited over the expensive couch or flooring someone would be bound to tell Mycroft.  
It would be even harder to avoid a medical check-up then.  
He swallowed down hard.

The pale wooden door to Sherlock’s left opened.  
Aric Weber gave Sherlock a professional friendly smile.  
“ Good to see you again Sherlock… come through. Frau Elliot some coffee in half an hour, if you please?”  
“I don’t drink coffee.” Sherlock stood up reluctantly.  
“No…? I daresay you are right, all that caffeine …. You prefer tea?” Aric asked affably.  
“Just iced water please.” Sherlock said and acknowledged his own powerlessness to avoid this whole appointment by walking through the door the lawyer was holding open for him.

There was a blue folder on the coffee table between the two couches in front of the window. If a bomb had been there with its timer ticking away the seconds it couldn’t have filled Sherlock with any more depressed dread.  
Sherlock found his eyes flicking away from the folder with its plain, numbered cover to Aric Weber’s tie which had a lurid print of tiny acid bright rainbows all over it and back again to the folder continually. He didn’t meet the lawyers eye.  
“How have you been Sherlock?” Weber asked as he settled himself in the couch seat facing the Elite Omega. There were yellow winged pigs on his socks.  
“Fine.” Sherlock’s stock defensive reply…. its fine, everything’s fine, I am fine…. now go away and let me alone.  
Aric Weber’s gaze was knowingly aware. “Does not knowing what’s inside the folder trouble you?”  
“No…” Sherlock said with brittle defiance.  
“Then let’s start shall we…?” Aric Weber said and reached for it.

The folder was open now, disgorging its contents out over the table like guts spilling from an open wound. Aric pushed an oversized, decorative glass platter aside to make more room.  
“How long after Charles Magnussen met and spoke with you backstage at school did the first letter and gift arrive?”  
“I don’t remember.” Don’t remember... don’t want to remember.  
“Try…An estimate? A day, a week …. a fortnight…. a month….more?” Aric reached for the pile of paperwork and selected a document. He held it out to Sherlock.  
Sherlock knew what it was. Charles spiked hand writing looped across the expensive paper it was written on. He answered so he wouldn’t have to touch the letter again in his lifetime. “The next week.”  
“And the gift on this first occasion?” Aric waited….  
“Tickets to the Royal Ballet.” Sherlock really did feel sick now.  
“These tickets …. they were to Charles Magnussen’s private box at the Royal Ballet were they not?” Weber was making notes again.  
“Yes.” Sherlock gave a single word answer.  
Aric Weber’s eyes looked up. “And you returned these tickets how?”  
“I googled him and sent them to his PA…. at his office.”  
“Did you write an explanation of why you couldn’t accept them?”  
“Yes…. I said it would not be acceptable for me to accept the tickets and I said thank you for the kindness of the offer.” There was a cat hair on Weber’s trouser leg…. “You have a cat? A brown and white cat? There’s a cat hair on your trouser leg.” Sherlock asked.  
“Several…. but alas none here in London with me. I was however a guest at Downing Street cat last night and they do have a cat. A most impressive tomcat called Larry..a brown and white tabby.” Aric’s reply was measured.  
"A tabby....there's always something ...I thought brown and white." Sherlock said with quiet frustration.  
Aric allowed the Omega his distraction for a moment, interested that although the youth had yet to meet his eye he had already made this observation.

Aric reached for his pipe and coaxed it alight patiently…. “How soon after you returned the tickets formally did the second gift arrive?”  
“The next week. A Mont Blanc fountain pen” Sherlock said bleakly.” Then every few days after that.”  
“And what was the next gift to arrive?”  
“I don’t remember.”  
“Take a moment to recall if you need…..”  
“ A Bvlgari watch.”  
Aric glanced up. "An expensive gift."

“The gifts increased significantly in value did they not?”  
“I don’t know, they kept coming but I stopped opening them.” Sherlock took a sip of water.  
“But you didn’t stop returning them?” Aric checked his facts.  
“No …I sent them all back, every last one.”  
“And did you write again?” Aric looked up curiously.  
“Once …asking him please not to send me anymore.”  
“Do you remember the exact phrasing?”  
“No.”  
“But you wrote to him and the letter said... don’t send anymore gifts?”  
“Yes…I said please stop. ”  
“And then the next gift arrived? … When you sent this gift back did you write again.”  
“No. He wasn’t listening anyway…. I thought maybe saying nothing would make him see….” Sherlock took another sip of water.  
“Make him see what?” Aric’s busy pen paused.  
“That I was too young and that I didn’t like him.” Sherlock replied looking away.  
“You were almost 14 when this took place? Below the conventionally acceptable age for such gifting from Alpha to Omega...The accepted age is 16?” Aric made sure he waited without looking up.  
“I don't know about the right age...Yes…. I was nearly 14.“ Sherlock said dully.

“The gifts stopped but something else happened did it not?” Aric watched Sherlock closely. The Omega kept glancing at the door; his desire to leave almost palpable.  
“My class was offered the opportunity to visit Fleet Street and his newspaper. “ Sherlock’s voice was emotionless but he still hadn’t looked away from the door.  
“Just your class?” Aric consulted his notes. ” All 18 Omega boys?”  
“No the whole school…. over 600 Omega …. he had us all line up naked so he could inspect our teeth!” Sherlock snapped back, his joke full of a desperate, deflective sarcasm. “You ask such stupid questions do you know that?”  
The sudden silence that followed sounded very loud.  
Sherlock froze. He looked afraid.  
“ To be fair to me, very little about the sexual decadence of Charles Magnussen would surprise me at this stage.” Aric said drily as he breathed out a cloud of smoke.  
He was pleasantly surprised when Sherlock gave a short breathless laugh.

 

“Were you anxious about the class visit?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why?”  
“Because he might be there.”  
“Magnussen? But you went?”  
Sherlock nodded. "I couldn't not go. My housemaster didn't believe I was sick."  
" Had you tried to claim you were unwell?" Aric noticed the Omega was looking very pale as Sherlock nodded. “During the school visit did Charles find reason to seek you out? Did he manage to have any private conversation with you?”  
“I think I feel sick... ”  
“You think you do or you are sure you do?”  
“I’m sure.... I feel sick…I want to stop.“ Sherlock said weakly.

Aric used the desk intercom to ask for a jug of iced water. He watched Sherlock take several tiny sips, while he moved the fan into place and directed its cool breeze towards the couch. In all truthfulness, the Omega did not look well…. Aric had a quiet word with his secretary just outside the room before returning.

“ We' ll finish early today.Your brother is sending a car for you Sherlock.... I have just one more question if you will indulge my curiosity while we wait? If I were Charles Magnussen and the Omega I am interested in is within a building owned by me I would make sure I had opportunity to see and speak with that boy alone…. He did do that didn’t he Sherlock? He made sure he had opportunity and spoke with you?”  
“Yes….” Sherlock’s fingers and thumb were tapping one to the other in a repetitive series of movements. He was eerily pale.  
“What was said?” Aric asked softly.  
“He said he wasn’t angry that I had returned his gifts…he said my innocence pleased him” Sherlock’s voice faltered. ”He touched my face ...with his finger... he said he found the certainty… that he would be the first to knot me in heat… very arousing…. but he expected I would find the experience to be extremely painful.” As soon as he’d said the words Sherlock promptly and efficiently made a grab for the decorative glass platter in front of him on the coffee table and threw up into it.


	10. Monochrome Candle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft decides a discussion about Sherlock's health can't wait and manoeuvres Alan and Sherlock to make the opportunity happen.....  
> Sherlock asks for the impossible.....or does he?  
> In the end both Mycroft and John find out more than they ever wanted to know about the relationship that exists between Alan and Sherlock.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever heard the saying ' ask for the moon and you just might get the stars'?  
> Sherlock asks for the impossible and manages to get what he really wanted all along instead....
> 
> FBC....full blood count. Just in case anyone wonders.
> 
> Blue the track is Prodigal Son by Rationale. The track explains the chapter title.

Sherlock leant his head back against the cream leather headrest and closed both eyes.  
“I have a sick bag in case you’re concerned I could projectile vomit over your perfect leather upholstery.” Sherlock lifted the hand with the empty waxed bag in it and waved it about.  
Mycroft sighed. “My concern Sherlock is focused on your health.”  
“Liar…. you’d hate it if I ruined your smart car…. or your new suit. You’d never use either again.” Sherlock managed to sound imperious for a brief moment, before making a sudden grab for the sick bag.

“Oh Sherlock, look at how pale you are….” Mrs Hudson fussed around the Omega in her warm motherly way, fetching his pillow and making him up a bed on the couch while totally ignoring Mycroft’s bemused suggestion that there was a perfectly good bed in which Sherlock could more comfortably repose without making the sitting room into some ‘shambolic variant’ of a bedroom. “Nonsense, the poor dear will be much happier out here with company around him,” she clucked dismissively as though the whole idea was absurd.  
The smugly victorious look Sherlock gave Mycroft from snug within his pillowed nest was met with an affectionately knowing roll of Mycroft’s blue-grey eyes.

The ivory pallor of Sherlock’s face was more pronounced than Mycroft had ever seen it.  
Mycroft was relieved to hear John’s uneven footstep on the stairs….  
“Really? You sent for John….? I get sick once and you call in John? Talk about an overreaction.” Sherlock said indignantly.  
“Problem? You’re unwell…. the brother that cares about you calls a friend, who just so happens to be an excellent Doctor, to make sure you’re ok… All sounds very sensible to me.” John was matter of fact about the reason he was here as he placed the medical bag he was carrying on the table.  
“I’m not ill …. I was sick…. now I feel fine.” Sherlock protested.  
Mycroft’s tut of disagreement was clearly audible. “Except for the fact that you clearly aren’t well Sherlock.”

John crouched down to get a better look at the Omega. Sherlock found himself staring into John’s caring brown eyes. “Have to say I agree with big brother. You don’t look fine ….” John said with blunt honesty. ”I’ve seen glasses of milk with more colour.”  
“Very funny John. It’s my cooking, sometimes even my stomach protests at eating it ….” Sherlock had his excuse ready....too ready.  
Mycroft met his little brother’s eye directly. “There’s no smell of burning. A milk pan and two bowls upon the draining board would indicate porridge, Alan Riddick’s breakfast of choice…. Did you even cook this morning Sherlock? Shall I ask Mrs Hudson?”  
Sherlock flushed, embarrassed to be caught in the obvious lie. “Alan made porridge…. I ate too much that’s all.”  
Mycroft drew in a slow patient breath before he spoke. “Stop lying to us, brother mine. When did you ever eat too much?”  
Sherlock pulled the duvet up over his head like a guilty child and vanished from view.

“This childishness must stop Sherlock. Unless you plan on continuing to hide under the duvet for the foreseeable future.” Mycroft was aggrieved and baffled by Sherlock’s obstinately unreasonable behaviour.  
“Only until Alan gets here. Then I’m going to my room…. Good luck with stopping me.” Sherlock upped the ante with the threat.  
“Really?” Mycroft sounded delighted at the prospect, “Did I neglect to mention that Alan Riddick may be otherwise engaged for the entirety of the afternoon?”  
The duvet was thrown back and Sherlock emerged hissing in a sudden flurry of movement. “Leave Alan alone! If you take him away from me…. if you do anything to him…. I’ll never forgive you!”

Sherlock exploded off the couch, moving with a fluid fast speed that John only saw coming because he’d been expecting it to happen all along. The Omega made a sharply angled move around the obstruction of Mycroft’s chair and headed for the sanctuary of his bedroom.  
While John scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and called Sherlock’s name, Mycroft didn’t react, remaining impassive as his brother tried the bedroom door and found it locked against him…. then tried the bathroom door, rattling the handle hard… and finally shook and pulled at the door that led to the stairs and out to the street below before realising all were locked against him and there was no way out.

“Open the doors! You can’t lock me in…. open the door! Open the door!” By the front door, Sherlock sank down to the floor; hugging both knees, with his head bowed so his expression was invisible and began rocking.  
Mycroft’s startled blink of abrupt awareness was quickly followed by an exchanged look of appalled recognition between himself and John.  
“What the Hell happened to having a calm chat? You’ve had him locked in? After everything you know about Apple Dore!” John disbelief was saturated with real anger.  
“I…. I was concerned.”  
“Talk about stupid.” John muttered darkly as he stepped past Mycroft and crouched down to talk to Sherlock.

 

“Sherlock? Mycroft didn’t mean to upset you, he's a total tit that's all…" John shook his head at Mycroft as the Alpha looked about to speak. "We just want to talk to you.” John’s voice was reassuring. “Nobody means you any harm.”  
“You locked me in! You’ve no right!” Sherlock’s panted breathing revealed his stress. “Where’s Alan? If he’s hurt…”  
“I didn’t know you’d been locked in Sherlock. I would never have agreed to it.” John shot a furious look at Mycroft.  
Mycroft spoke quietly into the space between Sherlock’s gasped exhalations. “ Alan is safe. I have agents with him constantly Sherlock …no harm can come to him. You have my word.”  
Sherlock’s inky blue eyes were vivid and flooded with raw emotion when he raised his head and hissed in a low voice. “Where… is he?”  
“At Chester Street Sherlock…. trying to help narrow down a timeline of events we can use in court ….”  
Sherlock stared into Mycroft’s eyes challengingly and Mycroft met his stare until the Omega’s eyes finally dropped…satisfied that it was true.  
John held out a firm, capable hand. “Mycroft didn’t mean to trigger you. We’re worried about you.… You aren’t well. Let’s get you back under the duvet…then we can talk.”  
Sherlock’s thin, pale hand took hold of John’s tanned one as John heaved him up to his feet.

“Aric said you were taken ill suddenly?” John’s warm fingers were wrapped around Sherlock’s scarred wrist, checking his pulse.  
“I threw up…I do that sometimes, just before a heat.” Sherlock sounded depressed talking about the subject.  
Mycroft gave John a questioning look that clearly said…. can that happen?  
John let go of Sherlock’s wrist reluctantly and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head that was enough to signal… no it shouldn’t. “I’d like to take some bloods and give you a quick check up Sherlock….”  
“A heat exam? ….. No.” Sherlock visibly shrank away.  
“No Sherlock…You should have one but it wouldn’t be right for me to do that… I was thinking more a basic health check. Your pulse is rapid and you’re very pale… in my professional opinion, you’re likely to be severely anaemic. That would explain the tiredness and the cold, even the leg cramps Mrs Hudson says you’ve been having.”  
“I didn’t say I was cold and it was just a dead leg…I’d sat on it.” Sherlock was defensive.  
"Yet you are wearing four layers." Mycroft spoke with quiet firmness.  
“Ok…. But it’s still a good idea to have a FBC done every six months.” John was kind but insistent.  
“I don’t like needles…” Sherlock inched back more as though John could pounce on a vein at any moment.  
“It’s just the one needle and 6 vials of blood…. I want to check your ferritin and haemoglobin levels.”  
Sherlock shook his head stubbornly. “If I’m so anaemic that’s not going to help…. taking blood I can’t even spare.”  
Mycroft controlled all outward signs of worried frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose stoically between both fingers, hoping the small pain would focus the muddled maelstrom of concerns he had about Sherlock’s bizarrely erratic behaviour.

“Alrighty….” John compromised. “I’ll halve it. Three vials, enough so I can check for anaemia …plus…. I get to give you a basic health check…. ENT, heart and lungs… all that and a vitamin B shot that’ll help give you some energy for your heat? Come on…I go to all the trouble to qualify as a Doctor and my best friend won’t even let me stick him with a hypodermic and prod a few swollen glands in his neck… I mean where’s the trust Sherlock?” He gave the Omega a grin.  
Despite himself Sherlock’s mouth twitched. “That’s two needles, even worse…. What’s in it for me if I agree to be your pincushion?”  
“Name your price.” John could almost feel the concern radiating from Mycroft. He was surprised when Sherlock shook his head with a despondent shrug.  
“Mycroft won’t allow it.” Sherlock said flatly.  
“The deal isn’t with Mycroft…it’s with me. Come on…. there must be something you want? I need to prove my hunch that you’re anaemic is right so I can finally impress you with my awesome diagnostic skillset.”

“My heat…. Alan stays here with me. Outside the heat suite but inside the flat.” Sherlock asked for it with quiet determination  
“Absolutely not!” Mycroft’s voice incised through the conversation.  
“Why not? We’ve done it lots of times and there’s a proper heat suite. I’ll be inside, he’ll barely scent me.” Sherlock demanded to know why what he wanted couldn’t happen. “He can wear a heat patch…. John can give him one.”  
“He’ll still be able to scent you on some level Sherlock, enough to disturb him… it’ll make the whole heat more difficult for you …knowing there’s an unbonded Alpha close.” John tried hard to stay calm.  
“He won’t care…. he’s used to it …I’m used to it.” Sherlock was adamant.

“It’s selfish Sherlock.” Mycroft’s disapproval was obvious. “The man is clearly attracted to you and ‘feelings’ are involved…. romantic feelings…. possessive feelings…Alpha feelings. To encourage him in this way is simply irresponsible and dangerous.”  
“How do you know what feelings he has? You don’t even know him.” Sherlock snapped back angrily.  
“No….? I know you and he enjoyed a little misguided romantic tryst in my garden.” Mycroft’s upper class voice was full of disapproval. “The frankly besotted expression on the man’s face afterwards was quite revealing. You may not be aware Sherlock but his feelings are quite genuine…the man is in love with you.”  
“Misguided...?” Sherlock’s voice was incredulous. “Of course, I’m ‘aware’ his feelings are genuine….so are mine, for him. I love him ...or did you think I kiss just anyone?“  
It was like a knife in John’s heart to finally hear Sherlock say the words….

“Alan Riddick is a completely inappropriate partner…” Mycroft paced the floor.  
“Why? Because he isn’t Elite? Because that worked out so well with Magnussen, didn’t it?” John surprised himself by defending Sherlock’s right to choose. “You can’t just say no to him Mycroft, Sherlock isn’t a child…he has his own mind.”  
“This is impossible.” Mycroft was ashen. “Sherlock…I already explained why this relationship cannot be allowed to evolve…Try to think beyond your own irrational desires…”  
“Just because you never acted on a desire in your life!” Sherlock snapped back.  
“While you’ve done little else recently? There are times Sherlock when some restraint can only be in the best interests of both parties.”  
“Oh, what the fuck would you know!” Sherlock stunned Mycroft into silence with the F-bomb.

“Alright! That's enough!" John’s raised voice cut through the stiff silence. “Sherlock…. having Alan here during your heat isn’t safe… it just isn’t, he’s unbonded and you aren’t able to bond.” Sherlock and Mycroft both opened their mouths to object for entirely different reasons….John ignored both. “There has to be a compromise, you give a little and we give a little?”  
“I’m not about to compromise on the issue of Sherlock’s safety during his heat. Every objection I have concerning that ridiculous notion stands.” Mycroft’s voice was pure acid.  
Sherlock looked so miserable John had to fight down the urge to comfort him with a touch. “I agree…. that can’t happen. Perhaps if we understand why you want Alan here during your heat we can find some middle ground?” John struggled to adapt and control the changing situation…he didn’t expect Sherlock to answer.  
There was a tense silence…. “I like talking to him through the door. It’s less lonely.” Sherlock’s voice was sullenly unhappy. “You don’t have heats…you don’t have to be shut away on your own for days. When it hurts, he talks to me. It’s better. He makes it better.”  
It wasn’t the answer either Alpha had expected to hear given the feelings Sherlock had admitted lay between himself and Alan Riddick…. it was almost unbearably naïve.

John was under pressure and he could see from Mycroft’s face the Elite Alpha was conflicted to the point of compromise… the impossibility of pleasing the brother he loved by giving him what he wanted beginning to weigh on him.  
“You don’t understand… Why would you? You’re Alpha.” Sherlock had dropped his head, he looked and sounded like he was giving up. It hurt John to see it. “All I do when I go out is meet Aric and talk about what happened, I never leave the flat to just do something for fun or because I can, I’m in London, it's a huge city but I see nothing and go nowhere. People come and go all day, you all do …you go anywhere you want but I’m always just here…in the flat. I can’t even open a window. It’s another cage.” Sherlock's throat sounded raw as it hurt him not to cry. “I’m not ungrateful…I’m really not, but I want a life… I want to feel like I have something just for me. I’m 19 and I feel 90! Alan’s mine…if he’s here we’ll talk, he’ll make stupid jokes and we cuddle.... he’s kind...he's just kind. I don't want to be my own, just thinking, thinking, thinking....I’m going mad from thinking! I can't switch it off.”

Mycroft looked as though Sherlock’s words had caused him physical pain.  
“ If I cant have him here for my heat...let him stay nights...please? I can’t sleep, you know I can’t. I’ve tried, I never sleep. Let him stay and sleep here?” Sherlock pleaded in an urgent rush. “You can say yes…. If he can’t stay for a heat he can do that? Please…. Mycroft , there has to be a way.”  
“Mycroft?” John asked, since the Elite Alpha hadn’t spoken.  
Mycroft gave a tiny, wordless nod by way of reply.  
“And I get to go out and do things… sometimes? You can have as many guards watching as you want? I'll do anything you say. ” Sherlock sounded wistful.  
Mycroft gave another tight, silent nod. His reluctance to risk Sherlock’s safety unsaid but palpable.  
“Do we have a deal?” John checked.  
“Yes. You can take your blood tests,” Sherlock said.

 

Sherlock rolled up his sleeve while John set out the three vials and felt for a good vein near the crook of Sherlock’s elbow. He found himself staring at the Omega’s sinewy arm, the skin crisscrossed with its old white scarring from self-harming before he slid the needle home.  
The vitamin B injection was straightforward…Sherlock looked away from the needle but stayed perfectly still.  
The pale colour inside Sherlock’s lower eyelid suggested a low haemoglobin count, as did the prominent blueness of his veins.  
John could feel the tension in his own body as he moved to examine Sherlock. The scent glands either side of his neck were slightly swollen… John could feel Sherlock’s thready pulse beneath his fingertips as he felt for them. The warm perfect softness of Sherlock’s skin was distracting.

“Sit up a little for me so I can check your lungs please?” John found himself staring at the damaged skin and tissue of Sherlock’s bond bite as he pressed his stethoscope over the demarcation lines of Sherlock’s ribcage and moved it over the faint whip marks that scattered the Omega’s skin. “Ok that’s all good…you have some crackling, a slight chest infection. Have you been coughing? Is it painful?” Sherlock nodded. “I’ll prescribe for that. You ok with antibiotics?”  
“Some,” Sherlock said dubiously.” Can we google whatever drug it is, I like knowing what they do?”  
“I don’t see why not.” John smiled at the sign of Sherlock’s relentless curiosity. “Ok…I’d like to examine the glands under your bond bite. Are you comfortable with that exam taking place?”  
Mycroft had turned to watch John closely. John was all too aware of the erotic significance any touch centred on Sherlock’s bond bite held for an Elite Alpha.  
Sherlock bent forward a little and ducked his head submissively.

The tattered skin was its own contradiction to John’s surprise. Each scar that had torn it was silky smooth and John’s fingertips slid into every damaged groove instinctively as he felt for the delicately proud bones beneath. Over Sherlock’s scent suffused, flushed skin John’s own capable fingers slid as though oiled as he sought and found the damage Magnussen’s fangs had left beneath the soft skin, scar tissue built up over years around that original puncture wounds that had driven deep between bone.  
There was a little resistance when John pushed and Sherlock made a noise deep in his throat that made John pull his hands away. “Sorry. Your glands are quite distended. That’s tender, yeah?” Sherlock gave a faint yes in reply. John really hated having to ask the next question. “When's the last time you…um, were knotted?”  
Mycroft levelled John with a warning stare.  
“Over 8 months ago,” Sherlock said with blissful ignorance of the two horrified faces behind him, his voice muffled by his head forward posture. “We haven’t done that…yet.”  
John really had no words when it came to imagining the dauntingly powerful frame of Alan Riddick doing that to Sherlock and from the mute look of pure misery on Mycroft's face it looked like Mycroft didn’t either……..


	11. Black and White and Every Shade of Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan faces a grilling about his past actions that he finds hard to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue... Track is Changing by Sigma.
> 
> Trigger warning for a scene that discusses underage sexual abuse.....

It had been a crap day. Alan had a slamming headache that ran all the way into his jaw and an obsessive need to scent Sherlock’s skin and calm himself down that was almost overwhelming….  
A whole afternoon spent looking at footage from Apple Dore had put him in a filthy mood. It was bad enough knowing inside his own head what he’d turned a blind eye to down the years, but seeing Sherlock’s traumatised face caught in frame after still frame, year after year, as bodyguard after bodyguard looked away impassively made his gut twist guiltily. When the guard looking away from the abuse was himself and there was cold judgement in every face around the table, the shame he felt was scalding.  
He’d almost managed to forget how slight and young the lad had been when it had all begun... 

“Viggo was hand chosen by you?”  
Alan wanted to look away from the screen on which Viggo was escorting Sherlock along a corridor, the boy had staggered and almost fallen twice before the guard caught hold of him by his upper arms and forced him to sit down on one of the window sills. “No..He was Danish , hand picked by the boss...I bought in a team of Brits. That was the agreement…. I could bring in my own guys to work alongside the Danish. All ex-military. Magnussen wanted every man to be capable of unarmed combat as well as discharging a weapon with accuracy.”  
Alan refused to take the easy option and look away from the screen as Sherlock hunched over with both skinny arms wrapping his body round and hugged himself helplessly while the guard spoke into an intercom.  
He wished he didn’t know what was about to happen on the footage but he did. On the screen he saw himself walk down the corridor and crouch down to speak to Sherlock.

“Can you tell us what’s happening here?”  
The door opened and Mycroft Holmes took a seat at the table without any fuss  
“The lad….” Alan corrected himself, “I mean Sherlock…. said he was punched into the gut…. that Magnussen had punched him. More than once.” Onscreen Sherlock was shrinking away as far back as he could get and shaking his head to everything Alan was saying. “I’m trying to get him to stand up. So I can get him to his rooms so I can call Dr Hoi, get him to check the lad over.”  
“You asked Sherlock to stand up?”  
“I did… He wouldn’t or couldn’t…so I went with plan two...lifting him up.” There was a brief but fierce struggle onscreen as Alan caught Sherlock by both wrists so he could pull the boy forward before lifting him up. The smear of blood left behind on the pale wooden window seat was all too clear…. “I didn’t know he was bleeding before that.” Alan stared at the blood.

“Could you tell us how old Sherlock is in this footage Mr Riddick?”  
“14…couple of months past it , if that.”  
A heavy set bearded Elite Alpha in a grey shirt and a tie covered in red hashtag symbols, wrote something on a piece of paper and slid it over the table to the third man a washed out blond seated next to Mycroft, who was asking all the questions so far.  
“You were unaware that Sherlock just been raped by Magnussen? That he’d been shaken by the guard with him until he got to his feet and that he had fallen two times already walking down the corridor?”  
" I knew fuck all about it until I saw he was bleeding. I got him back to his rooms and got the Doctor to him...that's when I found out.”

“Was the guard concerned in the shaking incident ...Viggo....reprimanded by you or Magnussen in any way?”  
“I had a word….Viggo owned up to it… he said he got stressed when Sherlock wouldn’t do as he said. It was early days… everyone was learning on the job. We agreed that two guards would attend instead of one when it came to moving Sherlock to and from the heat suite and a few other places.”  
“Why were two guards necessary when dealing with one Omega boy?”  
“It was psychological…more intimidating so it gave us the advantage…. with minimum fuss.”  
“Whose idea was this?” Another question on a piece of paper slid across the table.  
Alan thought and frowned. “I don’t know, it came about in a meeting... Magnussen’s I think.”  
“If Sherlock refused to obey he was simply to be manhandled? Physically forced into compliance?”  
“That was the order from the boss. We weren’t to allow him any disobedience.”  
“The permission to use physical force when faced with noncompliance came from Charles Magnussen himself?”  
“Yes and no….There were limits ...we weren't to injure Sherlock or strike him....but anything under that he left to me to decide what was needed.... The boss liked things to run smoothly. Get Sherlock where he wanted him to be...No delays…no problems.” Alan answered bluntly.  
The look of disgust Mycroft Holmes gave Alan was bitterly contemptuous.

“So forcing Sherlock, dragging him physically, physically subduing him, shaking him, shouting at him….. All that became common practice with Magnussen’s full consent?” Another written question from the flashy tie fucker.  
Alan’s tone was belligerent…. “Shaking him hard….no, that wasn’t meant to happen. I made that clear...but even I shook him sometimes...he'd get into this coma state....like he heard nothing, saw nothing..."  
"Catatonic?" Mycroft spoke, his tone sharp with concern.  
" Yeah...that's what Hoi called it. He said to shake him out of it....the boss would slap his face....I've seen that." Alan answered flatly. "Moving him when he didn’t want to go along…. yeah…. but there’s ways of carrying somebody when they don’t want to be moved, it doesn't have to get rough…. The order… my order…. was to try not to hurt him.” He gestured at the screen where he was carrying Sherlock in his arms. “I’m not hurting him there…”

The bearded guy with the brightly printed tie finally spoke up. Alan was surprised to hear an Austrian accent.…. he reached into a folder and placed a black and white photo of Sherlock desperately fighting and Alan himself overpowering him and lifting him off his feet to get him through the door and inside...“Yet you headed a team of men whose job, like your own, involved physically controlling and confining a child of 14… a child who was the sole Omega in a household full of Alpha? At times you acted in such ways yourself? You were now aware that Sherlock had been sexually and physically assaulted on this occasion, you saw the blood ….so, I feel the need to ask you Herr Riddick.... what was your reaction to knowing that truth?”  
“That's who you are…you’re the lawyer, Weber, aren’t you? Sat there all sly passing your fucking notes over the table till now you’ve something to say?” Alan was angry…at being here all afternoon, at Mycroft, at Weber, at Magnussen …at himself most of all. “You already know… I did fuck all about it!”

Aric Weber's voice was a direct challenge to be honest. “There is more than one version of an event, all may differ slightly but still paint a landscape in more detail. Why did you not resign?”  
“ You bloody know already , I'm not stupid, you've done your snooping or he has." Alan jabbed an angry finger Mycroft's way. The Elite Alpha didn't flinch. "I was facing criminal charges…. I’d beaten up my own brother…actual bodily harm was the charge if I went back to the UK…. Charles Magnussen offered a way to make jail time go away…. I wasn’t looking out for anyone except myself back then. I’d just lost someone close to me….none of my thinking was straight.”  
“Your Omega bond mate had died? An argument about his funeral expenses was behind the attack on your brother?”  
Alan gave a reluctant nod by way of a yes as his gut clenched. " I was hard up. The hospice bill took all the savings I had .... I wanted to bury Billy but Jed, my brother , had drunk away the money I'd left with him. I'd no hope of getting any of it back...it ran to a argument... Things were said ...I beat the fucker unconscious. "

“Charles Magnussen had saved you from a prison sentence, given you well paid employment and promotion….he'd good reason to expect you’d be loyal, that you were his cur…. yet you turned on him….” Aric mused. “He might well say your loyalty is questionable to say the least.”  
“To Hell with you and fuck your sodding opinion. It’s worth shit all…. I’m nobody’s dog!” Alan’s jaw was rigid. “Anything I owed that bastard I more than repaid down the years…. I worked a seven-day week, 24 hours a day on call, three weeks off in four years. I kept my mouth shut and whatever I thought about what I saw, I kept to myself….”

Aric made a note in German before he spoke….“Which begs the question…. What changed Herr Riddick, over the years to move your loyalty away from the man who had employed you and promoted you…. who’d shown such trust in you?” The lawyer's voice was impassive.

Alan shook his head, resigned to the unavoidable exposure…all too aware of Mycroft Holmes astute blue grey eyes upon him. “That’s easy enough to guess….I caught feelings for Sherlock….”  
Weber and Mycroft exchanged words in German....“You wanted Charles Magnussen’s Omega for yourself?” It barely sounded like a question.  
“ So what if I do... I treat him better than that twisted bastard ever did…” Alan stopped and drew in breath knowing he’d said too much.  
“Indeed …you’d be hard pressed to find an Alpha who treated their Omega with more prolonged and undeserved brutality than Charles Magnussen has…” Weber concurred.  
Alan was wrongfooted by Weber’s unexpected agreement. He nodded.

“At what stage did you decide to let Sherlock know that you had feelings for him beyond that of his bodyguard?” Aric’s tone was deceptively mild.  
“A few weeks after I scented him… I was with him in the heat suite , I'd patches on.... Magnussen had choked him half to death then took him in to see the child...Aleksander. Course it was a bloody disaster.… I’ve never seen the boy so sad.” Alan stared down at his fisted hands upon the table top. “Seemed to me he needed someone who cared.”  
“So you told him you did?” There was no judgement behind the question.  
Alan took a deep breath. “I told him how I felt … I kissed him .”  
" You kissed him? Did he allow it? Did he reciprocate?"  
Alan hesitated. " He kissed me first....here." Riddick tapped a finger close to his mouth. "I gave him a proper kiss back. He didn't pull away... That happened between the lad and me twice."  
Aric made a careful note.“Think very carefully now before you answer....Did Sherlock say he felt the same? Did he say he desired you sexually?”  
Mycroft watched Alan’s face change as the Alpha remembered that day. He already knew the answer before the man admitted to it.  
“No…. He said he didn’t think he’d ever be able to love anyone that way.”  
“Sexually? He felt unable to reciprocate?”  
Alan gave a morose nod. “ Do you blame him? You’ve seen how it was for him.”  
“Yet within months you and he ran away together…. you spent 8 months alone together?” Weber paused in the midst of filling a pipe and waited. “Why would he agree to do that unless he returned your feelings for him… sexually or romantically? Is Sherlock in love with you now?”  
“Why don't you ask him …since you think you’ve all the answers to how it was!” Alan felt over exposed and anxious not to look like a fool.  
“ I have of course asked him. Sherlock's answer was that he loves you....You don’t believe he does?”  
Alan laughed harshly. “Fuck you…. I know he does!”  
"The relationship between you both is now what....romantic or is it sexual?"  
" Both." Alan said defiantly.

“When you took Sherlock into your bed Herr Riddick you broke the most fundamental of Bond laws…. You sold your soul to the devil in Charles Magnussen before to escape charges of assault that amount to less than the one of rape you may now face… if its proven you have carnal knowledge of Charles Magnussen’s Omega what will you do this time to escape prosecution and a prison sentence?”  
“Rape?” Alan was stunned. “There was no force. We did nothing he didn’t want to do!”  
Aric sighed heavily. “Nevertheless….in the eyes of the law …it is rape. Sherlock is the property of Charles Magnussen.”  
“That's a pack of shit! That’s my Omega more than he was ever Magnussen’s. How’d I rape him when he agreed and that bastard didn’t when he forced him? What kind of fucked up law is that? Ask Sherlock…. he wants to be with me, you ask him and he’ll tell you. He was shit scared of Magnussen... still is! I'm not letting that bastard anywhere near him.... To Hell with the consequences! You may as well kill the lad now yourself....it’s a death sentence if you hand him Sherlock back. You can't be a part of that!” Alan was incredulous.  
Weber’s gaze met Mycroft’s in silence. 

Mycroft said nothing during the short drive back towards Baker Street until the car neared Marble Arch. “Should you ever harm my brother or abuse him in any way I will allow you no second chances.”  
“Fair enough.” Alan admitted with a quiet integrity.  
The car drew up outside 221b.  
“Sherlock requested that you be allowed to stay the night from now on.” Mycroft’s unease coloured his voice.  
“And you agreed? Bloody Hell, what changed? You've been dead set against it?” Alan asked in disbelief.  
Mycroft left the questions unanswered....“In the hallway is a man of almost your exact height and build…. you are to give him your room key and your jacket. He will spend the night in your hotel room instead of you... while you remain here with my brother.”  
“A body double? Does he know he is liable to end up dead if he’s thought to be me?” Alan asked bluntly.  
“ A sufficiently large sum of money and the promise of more can provide a remarkable incentive to take that ultimate risk.”

Mycroft reached into a pocket and handed Alan an envelope without a word.  
" If that's a pay off you'd best save yourself the bother.... I don't want your money.. I'll not leave him." Alan said tersely.  
" I am aware...." Mycroft didn't withdraw the envelope.  
Riddick took it warily and slid a thumb under the flap and opened it. "Tickets to the London Eye? " He was legitimately baffled.  
"Sherlock expressed an interest in understanding the city...an aerial view seemed appropriate. The wheel will be closed to the public tomorrow morning if you can make sure Sherlock is there punctually by nine?" Mycroft adjusted his cufflink fastidiously. “Try and ensure Sherlock gets some sleep…. You claim to be numbered among the few who genuinely care about my brother, the time has come to prove it for all of us."

Riddick hated to admit it but he knew when he'd been wrong. He'd been wrong about Sherlock's older brother. Time to make some amends. " I know bugger all about London. He'll enjoy himself more if you come along. Else he'll be stuck with me telling him 'that's a ruddy great block of flats over there and another one over that way' ..... I'm guessing you spew fascinating facts like a drunk man pukes..?"  
Mycroft's mouth twitched ....though if that was from amusement or disgust Alan couldn't tell.  
"A retentive memory is a family trait." Mycroft conceded that much. "Very well....we'll use my car.... 8.30 sharp....Goodnight Mr Riddick."  
Alan paused in the act of throwing the car door wide....he sounded surprised. " Aye...Night."

Alan's body double spoke no English...Alan emptied his pockets and handed over his jacket and keys with a nod and climbed the stairs. The flat was dark but the bedroon door had been left open for him, with the bedside lamp on. He could scent the Omega's saturated vanilla scent from the doorway....the scent hit him hard in the throat and heart and made him weak.  
" Did you meet your doppelganger?"Sherlock asked sleepily as Alan dropped his clothes and slid between the sheets.  
"Man of few words...aye." Alan pulled Sherlock closer and inhaled lungful after beautiful lungful. " I'd best watch my back case he takes my whole life over on a whim."  
" I could always tell you apart....it's easy." Sherlock murmured as he snuggled into Alan's chest.  
"One too few grey stress hairs has he?" Alan teased gently as he slid his nose into Sherlock's soft skin.  
Sherlock's palm slipped down and closed over Alan's stiff cock..."You haven't any grey hairs...I was thinking more of this...."  
"Were you now?" Alan's voice was thick with desire. "Maybe you'd best take a closer look at that then...just to be sure its the real me you've wrapped your hand round lovely lad."  
And Sherlock did just that....

 


	12. Not The Best Of Mornings....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Riddick wake up in the same bed...
> 
> The second part of CAM's revenge on the family of Tobias Carburet as payback for the insults concerning his Omega Sherlock and the school yard fight involving Aleksander, has resulted in a child being orphaned.  
> Greg Lestrade confronts bigotry and prejudice....
> 
> John's morning gets off to a wet start and goes to Hell fast.....  
> Noses are bloodied....and lips are split....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is ....WhisperI'lllistentohearit by Spoon. Its from Hot Thoughts.

3a.m…. There was a quiet calm to the morning that Sherlock had craved endlessly for weeks. Waking up spooned in close to the bare, warm skin of Alan’s body he felt close enough to invisible and safe that he could shut his eyes again and try to let his mind fall silent.  
4a.m.... Riddick woke up an hour later with his mouth buried in the damaged skin of Sherlock’s bond bite, every breath a dense lungful of vanilla that made his mouth water. He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the nape of the lad’s neck…. carefully adjusting his arms to keep Sherlock there, before shutting his eyes again.

5.30 a.m …. Greg Lestrade stood in line for his coffee and grabbed a copy of the early morning paper for Sherlock to read later, even though he already knew what the headline would be.  
Sure, enough there it was…. TRAGEDY STRIKES ELITE SURGEON’S FAMILY AGAIN.  
Anderson, the skinny Alpha forensic guy with dark hair, sweat stains under the arms of his shirts and a big nose caught Lestrade's eye with a shrug as Greg came back and threw the newspaper into the front seat of the Police car. “Talk about unlucky. Poor little rich kid.”  
There was pity in Greg’s voice. “Losing both parents … I wonder what will happen to him now.” He shook his head in wordless empathy.

“Still …an Elite Omega on his own in a house like that… he should have known he was taking a risk there…” Anderson was bluntly dismissive.  
Greg heard the prejudiced judgement in Phillip's nasal voice and there was a flash of annoyance in his hazel eyes as he interrupted the Alpha. “He was taking a risk of being murdered? In his own home? He didn’t live in the Bronx Phillip, he lived in a nice house in Notting Hill that’s worth a few million quid…. He should have been safe enough!”  
Sally had the good grace to look abashed at Anderson's opinion's. “I don’t think Phil’s saying he deserved what happened to him Greg....I mean, nobody deserves to be raped and strangled….”  
Anderson’s nasal tone cut right across her apology. ”Face some facts….this PC crap just isn’t how the world works and we all know it! A decent looking Omega like that, left without his Dominus.... all it takes is one Alpha to think about that fact and act on it…. And he must have let whoever it was into the house. Nothing was forced. Maybe he was coming up to a heat or something, felt like taking a knot!”

Greg concentrated on blowing slow air out his nose before opening his mouth. Even so he couldn’t completely control the angry disagreement in his voice. There were times as an Omega when he really felt Alpha’s were a whole other species of idiot who didn’t even see him as human… and if he felt that, as a common Omega, then God knows how an Omega like Sherlock must feel about the Elite ones who held all the power. “A few weeks after his Alpha is found butchered in his kitchen? Are you serious Phillip? You saw him at the crime scene, both of you, he was devastated… now according to you he’s so over it he can’t wait for a shag because he’s Omega !”  
“That’s how they are, all those Elite…sex mad little freaks.” Phillip’s voice was raised as he disagreed. “Look at that one who belongs to Charles Magnussen…. leaves his Alpha and child behind to run off with the body guard. What would he see in that guy other than a fist sized knot? Dirty little whores all of them!”

Greg’s face was suddenly mere inches from the bulbous tip of Phillip’s nose, danger flashing in the Omega’s rich brown eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! If you EVER repeat any of the shit I just heard you say about Omega …. especially Sherlock…. and I hear you saying it…. I swear …. it’ll be the last time you work any of my crime scenes!”  
Anderson paled. Pissing off one of NSY’s top homicide Detectives was career suicide for a forensic officer.  
Greg let go of the front of Anderson’s rain jacket with distaste and stepped back with a dismissive stare at the man. “You can do a lot better for yourself than this bigot Sally, a man who cheats on his wife will cheat on you” he said bluntly before turning and striding away back into the crime scene.

Sally gave Phillip a sharp poke in the ribs. “You moron!” She hissed in a low urgent whisper.  
“What? You know it’s the truth Sally!” Phillip had snapped out of his shock at being threatened by an Omega like Greg and was rebuilding his anger and adding in a good dose of righteous indignation.  
“Because that snob Alpha who’s always picking Greg up for a chat…. the one with the posh black car…. That’s Sherlock’s brother!”  
Phillip laughed sourly. “I rest my case…. Greg’s blowing some Elite in the back of a limo and that makes me wrong how? Like I said all Omega are the same …. cock mad the lot of them….”

 

It was 6a.m but Baker Street was already busy. John ducked between the front of a van and the back of a black taxi and narrowly avoided getting floored by a speeding cyclist, who like John, had decided to weave between the traffic. As his wheels hit the rainwater flooding the tarmac a cold dirty spray of water hit John at knee height.  
“Oi …. Look where you’re going!” John yelled after him.  
The rain was persistently heavy and had already soaked through John’s jacket at cuffs and along the shoulder seams and flattened the short orderly layers of the Alpha’s blond hair by the time he’d walked down from Baker Street tube station.  
The dark brickwork of 221b, and the original white stucco were saturated with damp and rain drops clung to the shiny black gloss of the front door vertiginously as John rang the bell and waited patiently for Mrs Hudson.

“Oh John, come on inside out of that rain! Why haven’t you got one of those nice big umbrellas’ like Mycroft has? You should ask him where he got his John, it’d keep you lovely and dry.” She clutched at John’s sleeve to steady herself as her hip gave a twinge. “Goodness you’re drenched…. come along in and I’ll get you a nice warm towel from the hot press….”  
Ten minutes later and John was ensconced at the small table in Martha’s cosy kitchen with a hot mug of Assam tea and a toast rack half full of toast in front of him alongside a pot of homemade marmalade and some real butter.  
His jacket was on the back of a chair facing the fire, sleeves dripping steadily into the hearth and his damp woollen jumper was on another chair pulled up in front of the oven, which was on at full pelt with the door thrown open wide. There was a faint smell of singed wool or wet sheep…. John wasn’t sure which but he did know Sherlock would have smirked at it.  
John had successfully fended off all Mrs Hudson’s attempts to get him to remove his shoes so she could stuff them with kitchen paper and ‘dry them out.’

“Oh its lovely to see you John, I’ve been so worried….” she was pouring tea as she spoke.  
“What? Why?” John asked in surprise.  
“Didn’t you get my message? I told your Saul and he said he’d pass it on….” Martha looked confused.  
“I’ve been working late shifts all week and he’s on a deadline. We’ve barely seen each other. When was this?” John checked.  
“Yesterday John…. Well… I said to him, something has to change because that poor boy is traumatised… After what happened on the sofa during Connie Price’s show… well…. John, you know me, I never fuss…. but the poor love can’t be left like that!”  
John fought to remain focused on solid facts and filter the trivia. There was a solid knot of concern in his chest. “There’s something wrong with Sherlock?”  
Martha took a deep breath in. “He’s having terrible dreams John. Nightmares.... he thought that awful man he was bonded to was there,” she lowered her voice in confidential awkwardness …” hurting him.”  
The inference was clear….

6.10a.m and Sherlock was shivering uncontrollably.  
“Alright love?” Alan kept his voice low as he placed a mug of hot chocolate on the table next to Sherlock and pulled the duvet up higher around the Omega..  
Sherlock shook his head bleakly. He looked hopelessly despondent  
"Same dream?....The study?"  
A mute, miserable nod was all the answer Sherlock gave.  
Riddick took a sip of his own hot drink to give himself thinking space. “You know he can’t hurt you here. That brother of yours has the whole street under surveillance that’s so tight you couldn’t fart without him hearing it…. that friend of yours, John… he’s used this place as a safe house before, he knows what he’s doing…. it’s well set up…. can’t fault him there….and I’ve my gun back.”  
“I know….” Sherlock sounded very young. “I can know a thing can’t be real and still dream it’s happening….”  
Alan sat down onto the couch and reached an arm round Sherlock’s hunched shoulders, hugging the boy closer while being mindful of the hot drink in the Omega’s hands. “It’ll get better love. Time’s the healer, isn’t that what they say?”  
“Will it?” Sherlock sounded unsure. “I wish it’d hurry up and do that then. It’s been almost a year.”  
“Aye …. can’t set a deadline on these things though. Best take it day by day. Today’s a bad day that’s all. That book of yours says dreams get more real when you’re pregnant doesn’t it?”  
That was true… the book did say that. “Vivid? Yes, it says that.” Maybe that was all it was. Sherlock leant into the side of the Alpha’s body.  
“There you go then…. It’ll come good in the end lad, you’ll see.” Alan kissed Sherlock’s temple softly and was surprised when the boy moved to put down the mug and turned to offer the Alpha his beautiful mouth…. 

6.45a.m “You did the right thing in telling me.” John reassured Martha.  
“I know he didn’t want me saying anything John…. I told him he’s like an ostrich with its head in the sand. I told him, things like this just don’t just go away unless you deal with them… but he says he’s fine. If he’s cross with me so be it! I just can’t do nothing now I know he’s in such a state.”  
“Don’t worry about that Martha. He thinks you’re wonderful.” John took a quick look at the clock. “I’ll go on up and have a word with him…. that’s if he’s up and out of bed?”  
“He’s definitely up John, I heard footsteps hours ago, just before 5a.m. He barely sleeps. Awake odd hours all through the night., sometimes I hear the violin….”  
“Mycroft said. You did the right thing saying something…. He isn’t fine, how could he be after everything he’s been through. I’ll talk to Mycroft about getting him some professional help now.” John knew Mycroft was every bit as worried about Sherlock as he was. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet, feeling his thigh muscle grumble as he did so. The damp always made for a difficult day. “You sure Riddick isn’t up there with him already?” Walking in on another sexual encounter between Alpha and Omega would be all John needed to make a perfect morning into an unmitigated bloody disaster.  
“Oh, no John…. I saw him leave late last night as I was closing the curtains.” 

Half underneath and half on top of the duvet in a heated fug of their own panted exhalations Alan’s hands were on Sherlock’s bare body and heading lower when he felt it…. rising just above the boy’s rapidly hardening cock as Alan’s fingers slid over smooth, perfectly silken skin following the flat plane of his body down… was the newly round, compact shape of the Omega’s womb.  
“You’ve a little bump love…” Riddick heard the awed fascination in his own voice.  
Sherlock stilled and Alan felt him rest his forehead against Alan’s own collar bone, his breath still fast, panting as he looked down to the splayed shape of Alan’s tanned hand just above his cock.  
“Give me your hand?” Alan reached up and pulled Sherlock’s hand down with his to press the Omega’s long fingers against his own body. “Feel it? That’s our baby…. Yours and mine.”  
Sherlock’s face was full of a sweet vulnerable tenderness…. “I wanted to ask you if it’s ok…If we call him… or her…. Billy?”  
Alan felt tears prick at his eyes and threaten to break him…. he pressed his face against Sherlock’s neck desperately fighting them back…. No hope of control over the raw, swell of emotion in his voice that was choking his words…. “That’s… Christ lad… that’s… More than… ok…. “  
Sherlock slipped both arms round Alan’s heaving ribs and held him tight…. 

7.00a.m and John climbed the stairs and gave a knock on the ajar door, calling out “Hey Sherlock…. Hello? You up yet?” as he stepped inside.  
“Shit!”…. Alan’s tone was flustered, his voice throaty.  
“Don’t come in John …. stay where you are! Don’t put the light on!”  
Sherlock’s startled voice clashed with the louder more vehement sound of Riddick's cursing and the quieter sounds of panicked movements.  
Both voices came from the couch…….  
OH SHIT!  
John backed up onto the landing and stood with his back to the wall listening to the sound of running footsteps and a door slamming hastily.

When the lights were on and the door opened, John wasn’t surprised to see a belligerent Riddick filling its frame.  
“You’d best come in.” Alan said gruffly. “Sherlock’s just getting changed.”  
“What the Hell are you doing here this early?” John demanded answers fiercely. “Your jacket isn’t even wet…. you’ve been here all bloody night!”  
“What am I doing here…. Best ask yourself that! You get a season ticket as a bloody voyeur, did you?” Alan snarled the words out from between tightly gritted teeth. “Not that it’s any of your damn business but I got the ok from Sherlock’s brother to stay over last night.”  
“Yeah? Mycroft know you’re fucking Sherlock on the bloody couch does he!” John was irate and concerned that Sherlock was having flashbacks. The duvet lay on the floor along with what looked like a t-shirt and a pair of pants. “You predatory bastard!”  
“What the fuck!” Alan stepped up with a deadly snarl and John stepped forward to meet him with a savage growl of his own….

 

7.30a.m and both John and Alan were facing the middle-aged duty sergeant at Marylebone police station.  
“Birth name, current Address and Date of Birth gentlemen if you would? Then we’ll take off the cuffs and you can empty your pockets into the tray….” The officer spoke with a bored, professional politeness… brawling Alpha’s fighting over an Omega were nothing new…. his night cells were full of them.  
John pinched his bleeding nose firmly and waited for Riddick to speak.  
"Right....whose having the dubious privilege of seeing their cell first?" The duty officer asked with relish.  
Alan spat a scarlet mouthful of blood onto the floor by way of an initial reply before giving his details.


	13. Mithered.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the many hidden emotions and problems in team Sherlock that have always been simmering just under the surface begin to come up to a bubbling boil...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yorkshire English is a little bit different.....  
> Owt....anything.  
> Mithering/mithered... Worrying or fussing  
> Courtin'....dating....
> 
> Blue the track is About You/ Comfort Now by Colouring

In cell 7 John Watson sat with his back to the painted breeze block wall in resigned silence, his nose stuffed full of toilet tissue to stem the bleeding. It didn't feel like his most heroic hour...He couldn't shake the feeling that he should have been the bigger man, punching Riddick into the mouth may have been on his wish list for a while, but now he'd done it and seen the appalled shock at what was happening on Sherlock's face he regretted it already.....He should never have let himself resort to violence....  
In cell 8 Alan Riddick laid on the bed and stared at the cobwebs in the high corner of the ceiling, every so often he worried at one of his front teeth with two fingers and swore quietly , sure that John's right hook of a punch had left it loose. Alan felt like a bloody idiot for letting things between John and himself come down to trading blows so fast....he should have left it go. It wasn't the best idea he'd ever had to headbutt John into the nose........ Christ, Sherlock had looked so shocked to walk out and find him fighting. 

Sherlock was trying to dry the heavily saturated rug with roll after roll of kitchen paper. There was an ever growing used pile of kitchen paper behind him but the rug was still sopping wet and he had a stressed shaking vibration in his hand he was trying hard to hide.  
"We could scrub it with soapy water, roll it up, carry it downstairs and hang it over the wall until it dries ?" The Omega suggested doubtfully.  
"Not in this rain Sherlock dear." Martha was flustered, as any lady who'd thrown half a bucket of cold water over John and Alan Riddick, as they struggled with one another on top of her mothers rug, was bound to be. "We can't have the flat smelling of damp carpet for you , with your heat coming up we won't be able to open the windows.... I don't know what they were thinking.... I've never seen John act like that before!"  
" Alan doesn"t think first sometimes..." Sherlock laid out another roll of kitchen paper across the wettest part of the rug in long criscrossing lines and began pressing down on it with his hands until the sheets were sodden with water. It gave him something to do that took his mind off worrying.  
"Is it any drier yet?" Martha asked anxiously.  
"Not much, " Sherlock was honest. "We're going to need a lot more kitchen paper....another eight rolls at least."  
" I think we need carpet foam to get that blood out.... I'll have to go get some .... Would you be alright on your own in the house for a few minutes while I go to the corner shop Sherlock?"  
Sherlock's busy hands froze....there was fear in his voice. " Can you send for Mycroft before you go?"

A pair of perfectly polished Oxford brogues appeared in the open doorway a mere ten minutes later.  
Mycroft raised his eyebrows at the sight of Sherlock on his hands and knees like some charlady. "What on earth are you doing Sherlock?"  
Sherlock sounded breathless as he eased back onto his heels and looked up . "The rug belonged to Mrs Hudson's mother .... she doesn't want it ruined. We were going to roll it up and put it over chairs to dry but all the furniture is on top of it...will you help me move the armchairs and lift it?"  
"That won't be necessary Sherlock." Mycroft stepped over the kitchen paper covered patch of highly patterned rug and headed for the couch, before hesitating at the sight of the duvet still on it .... electing to settle down in the armchair instead. " A specialist cleaning company is on its way....you can leave it to them now."  
An object on the floor caught his eye.... There was an uneasy pause before he spoke again...."Sherlock....is there a pair of underpants on the floor...?"  
Sherlock glanced over and flushed a bright embarassed red. "Possibly..."  
Mycroft's sharply disapproving nasal inhale said it all.

The cleaning company arrived and made efficent work of setting up. They seemed confident they could salvage the rug to Mrs Hudson's effusive relief.  
Sherlock went to pick up the pants as soon as Mycroft's attention was focused elsewhere only for him to turn around sooner than expected , forcing Sherlock to settle for kicking them underneath the couch with one socked foot.  
Under the circumstances Mycroft thought it best to refrain from passing comment. Instead he checked his watch as he asked. " Ready Sherlock? We really should be making a move."

Inside the car Sherlock looked away from the journalists , kept behind the police cordon further down the street who'd shouted his name and snapped photos at the sight of him. He stared out of the tinted windows of Mycroft's car at the bustle of a street that was already busy with fascinated, unique eyes that missed nothing.  
The car turned left and headed away from Baker Street towards the Houses Of Parliament.  
"Wait! What about John and Alan? You can't just leave them at the police station?"  
Mycroft's tone was mildly reproving. "Really?.... Yet I appear to be doing just that.... I believe allowing them both some time to clear the stupefying effects of Alpha testosterone from the bloodstream would be an excellent idea." Sherlock had opened his mouth to protest but fell silent submissively when Mycroft added, "John Watson and Alan Riddick are directly responsible for the predicament both now find themselves in. Of course I will squash any charges ...however, I have no intention of allowing either to inconvenience my plans.... You mentioned a desire to see London brother mine , therefore that is what we are going to attempt. I have an entire morning to spend with you.... Please Sherlock, I get that opportunity so rarely...." 

After an hour and a half it became apparent to both John and Alan that Mycroft was leaving them to mull things over..... after three long, boring hours had dragged slowly by, it was apparent just how profoundly irritated the Elite Alpha truly was.....  
After four and a half long hours the cell hatch in the top part of John's cell door finally slid open and a policeman looked in. "Right Dr Watson out you come. There's a Saul Jefferson here who says he's your boyfriend, come to make sure you get home without any more trouble."  
John had collected his personal possessions and was doing up his watch and slotting things back into his pockets when it occurred to him to ask the duty officer. "Any charges?"  
"Not this time, you got lucky. Friends in high places have you?"  
"Something like that." John replied matter of factly.

 

Saul was waiting outside, parked over by the wall in the busy carpark. John pulled at the passenger door and got into the car in a hurry, keen to get out of the relentless rain.  
"Jesus John, you've eyes like Kermit the frog...Is the nose broken?" Saul asked with concern.  
"Not sure , I did my best to straighten it up, we'd best get it checked out ...the bastard got me with a headbutt... I should have known he'd go that route." John muttered thickly.  
Saul winced sympathetically." I saw him leaving about 20 minutes before you."  
"Tell me he looked worse than I do?" John was hopeful.  
Saul grinned. "Blood all down his sweatshirt and it looked like he had a tooth loose."  
"Who collected him?" If it was Sherlock, all huge worried eyes and tender caring touches.... John actually felt that the top of his skull could explode....  
"Mycroft Holmes.... I'd say he didn't look very happy but it'd be a massive understatement." Saul said with pleasure.  
Now that particular ride home wasn't anything John envied Riddick ....

Alan's tooth was giving him some pain....more than a bit worrying as it happened to be one of his Alpha fangs. Bloody Hell they'd better be able to save it....."Where's Sherlock?" He asked into the frosty silence that filled the car.  
"My brother is with Gregory Lestrade...." Mycroft's voice was coldly formal. " Aric Weber phoned an hour ago...We have a court date for the access hearing in nine days time, following Sherlock's heat."  
"Fuck..." Alan said bluntly. "How'd the lad take that news?"  
Mycroft fixed Riddick with a supercilious stare. "Poorly...as you would already be aware were not for your own crass stupidity. Your ill considered brawl has left him unsettled all morning...."  
"To Hell with that...I'd have been out of that cell hours ago if you hadn't decided to let us stew!" Alan was defensive. "It wasn't just my sodding fight either...John threw his fair share of punches."  
"Mr Riddick..." The icy hauteur in Mycroft's tone would have sent a dog cringing back to its basket with its tail between its legs. " Do you understand the full implications of a pseudo bond for an Elite Omega such as Sherlock? A yes or no answer will suffice."  
Riddick went with a honest... "Maybe not one hundred percent."  
Mycroft's stare was dismissive. " I offer you two options ... yes or no... and you select ...maybe? This is no time to be non-committal. You have fostered this emotional reliance between you both.... in doing so it became your role to provide physical and emotional comfort whenever Sherlock needs it.... We were meant to be spending a morning focused on my brother.... instead you choose to engage in a frankly ridiculous display of Alpha aggression and dominance on the floor with John Watson, in the manner of two aggressive dogs, until Mrs Hudson was forced to seperate you with a dousing of cold water.... all in full view of my brother!"  
Fuck! Alan wisely stayed silent.  
"Sherlock is agitated... He will remain unbalanced and emotional until he can scent and be scented..... providing that particular physical comfort and reassurance, Mr Riddick is now your role alone!"  
Mycroft's car eased to a halt outside a Harley Street dentist's. "They are expecting you...."  
Shit a private Harley Street dentist! That couldn't come cheap.... Alan opened his mouth to make some hasty promises about his future decision making, only to close it after a particularly withering stare from Mycroft. "Actions , Mr Riddick, speak far louder than mere words."  
" Alright , you've made your point. It won't happen again," Riddick said awkwardly as he opened the car door.

The car was driving up Pall Mall when Mycroft next spoke. "There was a pair of underpants...on the floor by the couch...did they belong to you or to Sherlock?" His voice was filled with a highly fastidious disdain.  
Even when he already knew that's where they must have been left, since he was commando beneath his jeans; it was still an awkward bloody moment. Alan cleared his throat..twice. "Mine...."  
"Am I to infer that you were engaging in some sort of coitus on the couch with my brother when John opened the door and that the interuption triggered your fight? " The acidity in Mycroft's tone warned against imparting too much explicit information.  
Coitus...what the bloody Hell was that? Alan felt like he was trapped in some wordy Victorian novel.... "Coitus....does that mean fucking?" Aye...it must, judging from the deadly glare Mycroft was giving him now....good one Alan, way to piss the man with the power right off! "What?....No!.... Not on the couch." Alan denied that vehemently before he owned up awkwardly to what they were doing. "We were getting a bit handsy under the duvet, is all."  
"How delightful...." Mycroft's face and voice revealed he thought it anything but....

 

Mycroft's Holmes house was an intimidating place to be for an common Alpha who'd grown up in an average working class house... but Greg looked perfectly at home there...he'd taken off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and covered the highly polished Georgian table with an anonymous cold case file involving a stabbing in a bid to distract Sherlock's from his constant agitated pacing. It wasn't working , Sherlock couldn't sit down for a second....  
"Why don't you sit down and take a look, see what you can pick up from a look at the crime scene ?" Greg asked.  
Sherlock whirled past the table.... Greg barely saw him glance at the photos, before he was speaking at speed. " I don't need to....the red couch... it's all wrong."  
"Wrong how? "  
"That couch stands in direct sunlight....? It's a South facing room but there's no blind ... Really look at the sunlight , see how its reached as far as the cushions even though its early morning?"  
"Which photo are you looking at?" " Greg was buggered if he could see everything Sherlock was seeing.  
"Not one photo....two," Sherlock jabbed at both with one long finger in passing, " you can see the couch cushions are darker and the fabric of both looks less worn than the arms of the couch or the back...so, possible explanations.... it could simply have been recently moved forward into the sunlight but no, its too marked a difference for that, its taken time to fade the fabric so badly... and the shape isn't at all worn down on the front edge where you'd usually get indentation from sitting, instead its dipping towards the back ... so the seat cushions themselves were turned over....Look at the seat covers, at the seams and edges, they look like they've shrunk in a washing machine, don't they?....It's unlikely the attack took place on the couch , you'd never get that much blood out... so, arterial blood spray then....the knife attack came from above , down into the neck while the victim was sat on the floor a little in front of the couch... it would have splattered everywhere. " Sherlock turned and walked past Greg again , miming a violent stabbing action into the back of his own neck as he went by , without pausing. "Now he threw out the rug that used to be there, you'll have noticed the laminate is lighter there and less yellow in a square shape?..... Maybe the killer felt squeamish about using the couch afterwards but he couldn't afford to replace it so he flipped the seat cushions over....people can be so funny about blood .... but I bet if you remove the seat covers you'd find some blood stains underneath."  
Greg Lestrade hadn't heard anything quite like Sherlock ....he was lost for words. "You got all that from one quick look?"  
Sherlock stopped walking , his face filled with an uncertain consternation..."I shouldn't have said that out loud...any of it... it's probably all wrong." He looked petrified.  
"Why ever not?.... Its spot on, all of it and you didn't even take more than a quick look to solve it!" Greg was amazed. "If I could read a crime scene like that I'd be shouting it from the rooftops! I've never seen anyone do it that way before!"

Riddick didn't know if Sherlock would be angry with him or not....it seemed likely given how he'd been after Lars...having said that, the lad had looked more confused than angry back at the flat.  
When he opened the door Sherlock span around at once and came straight to him.... Riddick could see the anxious brightness of tears in the Omega's eyes.  
"Sorry lad... I shouldn't have left you so long...."Alan mumbled inarticulately , half his mouth and tongue still numb from the dental injection..... Against him Sherlock was hugging him closer, taking breath after shuddering breath....scenting skin desperately to calm himself....  
" Ugh you reek of other Alpha..."  
Greg could hear Sherlock's frantic inhalations from half way across the room...John was right, definately a pseudo bond.  
"Aye....That'd be from the bed in the cells...I'll take it off... let go one second." Alan pulled his sweatshirt up ....before it was even over his head Sherlock had both arms up inside the back of Alan's t-shirt and was pulling the t-shirt higher and higher, virtually stripping the Alpha ..."Whoa Sherlock ...." Riddick protested...  
" For God's sake Alan, it's only skin .... just take it off...." Sherlock demanded impatiently and Greg could hear real need in his voice.  
Greg stood up....time to go for a quick smoke and let them at it....as he did he saw a flash of Alan's muscled, body that wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of a fitness magazine ....

Mycroft was midway up the stairs with a determined look on his patrician face, when Greg began heading down...."Gregory."  
"You may want to give them a few minutes....there's some serious skin scenting going on..." Greg tried to keep it light but at the same he didn't think going in there was a good idea.  
Mycroft's gaze went unerringly to the closed door in barely veiled concern before returning to Gregory's understanding face.... " I should see if Sherlock is alright?" He looked again at the door....  
"It'll be okay. I'd leave them at it for a while...." Greg said kindly. "I think Sherlock's the boss of anything that is going on in there."  
Mycroft's intelligent eyes moved away from the door and back to Greg....."Tea?" He said finally.  
"Something stronger?..." Greg suggested. "You look like you need it!"

"I was that mithered, thought you'd be angry at me." Riddick had both arms full of Sherlock and was holding on tight....  
Sherlock looked up from sucking at Alan's collar bone...."Mithered... that means worried?"  
Alan palm covered Sherlock's bond bite, rubbing with firm pressure and felt the boy's shaky inhale stutter against the damp skin he'd been mouthing..... "Bothered...aye."  
" I just don't understand what happened?" Sherlock sounded unsure.  
"Me and my bloody temper.....John and me don't get along, I guess......." Alan shook his head.  
" No.... but it wasn't just you...." Sherlock had seen John thumping in blow after blow, the dark bruising was still shadowing Riddick's ribs and John's body had to be the same.

" He's there a lot...at the flat." Alan left it at that.  
"He's my friend...the only friend I had before you...." Sherlock tried to explain.  
"He's kissed you before....He's a good looking bloke .... You and him get along...." Riddick let his doubts show.  
" So are you...and we get along too." Sherlock leant his face against Alan. " We've done a lot more than just kiss...."  
"The way he looks at you its more ....he'd like to be more." Alan spoke with bleak certainty.  
"What...? No...he wouldn't....he's with Saul!" Sherlock dismissed the idea.  
"Saul's not an Omega.... can't be owt more than a wank between them," Alan spelt it out carefully...."He can't knot Saul...."  
Sherlock's whole body was tense...." That's ridiculous.... John is'nt like that...if you got to know him...."  
"He'd like to knot you, maybe even bond you.... it's written all over his face everytime you aren't looking." Alan knew it, he'd guessed it from the way John looked at the lad when he'd walked in on them...he was even surer given John's reaction that morning.

"Well, he can't and he wouldn't want to if he could...he's living with Saul." Sherlock repeated.  
"He's an unbonded Alpha isn't he ...he'd be blind not to look twice, given how gorgeous you are."  
Sherlock shook his head as if that was absurd. "Will you stop mithering... He knows we're together."  
Riddick had never heard one of his own Yorkshire sayings come out of Sherlock's mouth before.... He would have had a huge grin on his face if he could move his bloody mouth! " Courtin'...that's what we are my lovely lad...and I reckon its knowing we're doing that...and more than that.... is his whole problem...."


	14. Waiting Upon Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles begins to make certain Aleksander knows what is expected of him.....

Aleksander chewed the end of his pencil and wrote neatly underneath his drawing of a tall building ....  
MY HOME. This is my home, I live right at the very top, higher than anyone else who lives here. When just your family lives at the very top of a tall building its called a penthouse. It is the safest place to live in London because all of the windows are made of bullet proof glass and all the floors and walls are bombproof and also it is gas attack proof. A gas attack is when you couldn't breathe the air and if you do breathe it you would DIE. We have a lift with cameras instead of a front door and nobody can come up inside the lift unless my Fader knows who they are. I would like to have a dog, maybe a white one with black spots and a red collar, but I am not allowed because then the dog would have to go down in the lift to the park every day to be walked or catch a ball and that would not be safe for me and maybe not even safe for the dog......  
Aleksander sharpened his black colouring pencil carefully before drawing spots on his drawing of a dog, running to catch a ball in the park he could see from the windows of the building he called home in his picture.  
Charles Magnussen watched his son without a word. Later he would look at the child's schoolbook to ensure nothing untoward was being revealed in childish innocence that he would prefer was kept secret. Given time the boy would learn the importance of discretion and silence for an Alpha of the Elite.

"Fader?"  
"What is it Aleksander?"  
"My teacher wants us to say who is in our family."The child hesitated. " So our family is you first Fader and then me ...."  
"And Sherlock?" Magnussen made sure his tone was calm and betrayed none of the satisfaction he felt at the child's omission.  
Aleksander didn't begin writing yet. "I think Sherlock doesn't remember me anymore?"  
Magnussen put down his paperwork on top of the huge coffee table. "Do you think that likely?"  
"He forgot my birthday present." There was a residue of hurt in the words.

Charles made no comment ...knowing full well that Sherlock had sent a card and a carefully wrapped gift that Aleksander had not been given. "Does that anger you, or upset you?"  
" I don't know Fader.... it isn't fair. All the other boys' get presents from their Mother. If he loves me why didn't he give me a present?"  
"Sherlock needs reminding that his focus should be on you as his child, on his Alpha and on his home... that is true. You should not be disappointed because he is failing as a Mother."  
Aleksander sighed heavily in clear frustration.  
"You may speak." Magnussen gave clear permission.  
"If I never see him.... then maybe one day he'll forget all about me."  
Charles drew the child close. "Do you forget him?"  
"No Fader.... "  
"Nor do I. Every night I think of him and I will do so until he is with me again." Charles fought the possessive dark urge to close his hand in a fist.

"There is something I have held back from you, that now it is time to discuss." Charles watched Aleksander closely as he spoke. "As Elite we are above many of the rules of the land enforced by common policemen and upheld in common courts of law. We have our own laws and justice is handed out in our Bond Courts by those of good lineage who understand how these affairs are best resolved."  
"What does that word mean?" The child asked.  
"Bought to a satisfactory ending." Magnussen took a lesuirely mouthful of coffee. "You understand?"  
"Yes Fader."  
"Sherlock elder brother is a manipulative man who thinks his family above the old traditions such as our Bond Court.... and even our Elite laws and traditions. He has appointed and paid for a lawyer... an Alpha from the Elite... a man who respects nothing, called Aric Weber, whose job it is to argue in Court and bend the law to go along with how he wishes it to be. This man... this creature, Weber.... has put forward a case claiming to be acting for your Mother. It will go before the court for consideration very soon."

Magnussen smiled at the intense look of concentration on the child's naive face. "He will use Sherlock's need to see you against me. Instead of returning Sherlock here to us; his Alpha Dominus and his child , this corrupt lawyer intends to ask the Court to say that you must go to visit Sherlock where he is living with the man who took him away from us.... This same man uses Sherlock and does to him all the sexual acts that you know happen during a heat ."

The child's consternation was real. "No! I don't want to go ....I won't go. They can't make me! I don't want to see them do that! Sherlock needs to come here!" Aleksander was fiercely adamantly loyal.  
"Yes .... that was my first reaction also... anger that they would ask my own Son to act against me in such a disloyal way . but then I thought of the ways that we could use this opportunity to bring Sherlock back home with us, where he truly belongs and I let my anger die down like the embers of a fire. It may look to have died out but it can still burn." Charles gave the child an approving smile. "As Fader and son we are of the same blood, we think alike...Mycroft Holmes and his dog of a lawyer have no understanding of the trust I place in you Aleksander."  
The child's proud smile followed the praise immediately.  
"You are my son and heir.... I will make sure you are never subjected to the sickening sight of a lowborn Alpha pawing at your mother for his own sexual gratification...you need not fear that."  
Aleksander frowned at the long word, unable to work out its meaning. He hated feeling stupid.  
"Gratification .... the word means to take pleasure." Magnussen watched the child's face as Aleksander thought about the meaning of that word in the context of the pornographic images he had seen.

"Perhaps you are right and Sherlock has not seen you for so long that he is beginning to forget you... that would be a very bad thing. We cannot allow that to happen or he may never come home." Charles sighed. " Sherlock wants to see you Aleksander ... as I have told you before, an Elite Omega like Sherlock feels a bond to the child that is born from their body , it may not be the equal of the Alpha bond that exists between us as Fader and first born son but it is there. If our lawyer tells the bond court that we agree that Sherlock may only spend time with you on his own, if he will do so under supervsion.... I would send an Alpha of my choice with you to make sure you are safe and most importantly that his brother Mycroft cannot try to take you away. Sherlock may also bring along a chaperone to make sure he feels safe but my own lawyer will ask the bond court to be certain this person is not allowed to touch you or interfere with your time with your mother in any way.... once that is agreed upon you would have visits with Sherlock all to yourself. The mother/child bond between you would grow strong again and that may come to mean he decides he will come home, especially if you tell him how much you miss him and want him to live here with you. You won't forget to tell him that will you?"  
" No Fader." Aleksander promised..

"It will take time but once there is trust you may even ask Sherlock to take you outside... under supervsion of course to begin with..... I must be sure you are safe....but later if all goes well you and Sherlock could go alone, just the two of you... perhaps to the park, it's very close to where he lives." Charles was no fool he saw the longing in his son's eyes everytime they drove past the park with its long ornamental lake and trees. "Would you like that?"  
Aleksander's nod of reply was certain. "Yes Fader."

It was late and a yawning Aleksander had long ago been removed to his bedroom.  
Charles moved through his dressing room into the empty suite of secret rooms that lay behind the hidden doorway. The decor met with his approval , being both muted yet opulent. The oversized bed with its huge padded headboard that covered the whole wall would ensure Sherlock could be thrown onto and around it without risk of injury should his head or body strike the wall. If he struggled he would easily be controlled with hands around his throat, pushing him down into the soft upholstery of the bed without fear of noise or injury beyond what was to be inflicted. All could be done in perfect privacy.

There was now no need for bodyguards .... no chance of anyone growing close to his Omega again. Sherlock need not leave these few well hidden rooms. He would remain secure and invisible, available only to Charles and when the Omega knew his place once more and had paid the price for his whorish behaviour , the child could visit his mother.

Brutality would be necessary of course... the inevitable consequence of Sherlock's rebellious refusal to learn. Best the child did not witness the Omega's full correction beyond the initial blows....  
The child was as soft hearted as his mother when it came to violence....still, both would need to learn.


	15. Deductions and Planned Deceptions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Sherlock spend the morning at the Crime Museum.  
> Greg realises just how observant the Holmes brothers are.....  
> Sherlock gets a mysterious parcel and tests something in it out on Riddick.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crimes and the artifacts mentioned are all real and the exhibits Sherlock is fascinated by originally came from Scotland Yards infamous Black Museum and are now open to the public in London's museum of Crime.
> 
> Chuffed .... means very pleased.
> 
> Track is a perfect rec by Blue....which is so insanely good I can't stop playing it!  
> Le Premier bonheur du jour by Pink Martini and The Von Traps.....

Greg Lestrade had known would be detectives who'd fainted at the sight of some of the more macabre objects in Scotland Yards infamous black museum. If you were a supersitious person the place could give you some very dark, ominous feelings.  
Sherlock Holmes , for all his otherwordly gothic fragilty, took the eerie death masks and assorted hangmans ropes, with their oiled sheen of proven use, in his long leggy stride.  
It was the closest Greg had ever come to taking an excited kid around Disneyland... every exhibit held Sherlock's rapt attention.

The charred chair used by Samuel Furnace to fake his suicide in 1933 had fascinated Sherlock so much the Omega had crouched down to see it from all angles without any care to how odd his behaviour looked to anyone else.  
Right now Sherlock was staring at what remained of someone's feet after the rest of Olive Durand Deacon's body had been disolved in a bath of acid. The murder might have happened way back in the 1940's but even so Greg found his own toes curling inside his socks at the sight of the old brownish bones.... Sherlock seemed oblivious, his fascinated face so close to the exhibit Greg was pretty sure his nose had to be touching the glass.  
"It says they solved it by making a cast of her foot using the bones and matching it to her shoes. That's clever." Sherlock said without turning his head.  
Greg had seen Breaking Bad and the infamous body in the bath.... bath through the floorboards scene. He knew what acid could do. He was lucky he had a strong stomach....if he hadn't he'd be in the wrong job. "Thinking outside the box can be what it takes to crack a tough case...it's not all fancy forensics. You can't underestimate instinct and good old fashioned legwork." Greg admitted.

"Did you always want to be a detective?" Sherlock seemed genuinely interested.  
"God no....I spent a year wanting to be a shepherd." Greg said with a laugh."High on the hills lives a lonely goat herd and all that ..." First time he'd ever heard Sherlock laugh..." So what did you want to be?"  
Sherlock gave an embarrassed shrug. " I went through a dramatic stage of wanting to be a vampire. It would never have worked out ...I don't even like my steak underdone."  
It was Greg's turn to laugh at that.

" How come Alan didn't want to come along today?" Greg had a theory he wanted confirmed .  
Sherlock huffed a laugh as he stood up. "Mind if I pass on that gory stuff lad? All those body parts ...it's not for me," he deadpanned with a pitch perfect impersonation of Riddick's Yorkshire accent.  
Greg grinned. Exactly what he'd thought the reason was. "Bit squeamish ?"  
Sherlock's answering smile was wicked. "Massively."

Greg saw his chance to open the topic. " I would have asked John along if I'd known Alan didn't feel like coming."  
Sherlock's sigh was barely audible. "Best not." He moved past Greg to stare at the trunk in which Minnie Bonati's body had once been crammed. "I wonder how tall she was? I'd never fit."  
"They were a lot shorter back then." Greg said. "Alan and John haven't sorted things out between them then?"  
Another sigh....."No.... I don't think they will either. Not after what happened."  
"No chance it cleared the air between them?" Greg suggested.  
"I don't think so," Sherlock straightened up. "They don't like each other." He sounded bleak about the prospect of them ever getting along. "He doesn't even want to try... not really."  
"Who doesn't?"  
"Alan.... but John's the same. Alan shows it more... that's all...but John doesn't like Alan either. "  
The conflict of interests clearly had Sherlock stressed.  
"John worries.... I'm sure Alan does too." Greg said kindly. "People care about you.... working out the best way to do that between them is bound to lead to a few disagreements. They'll work it out."

"Everyone I know worries... I attract concern like metal filings to a magnet." Sherlock's irritation was all to clear. "Mycroft lives in a state of perpetual worry, John checks in on me daily in case I've wasted away overnight from lack of calories or sleep and Alan....." Sherlock stopped talking abruptly.  
"Alan what?" Greg kept his tone casual.  
"It doesn't matter. " Sherlock said blankly. "Can we get fish and chips, we drove past one on the way here? John says its really good. I want to try cod and chips."  
Fish and chips in the car was Greg's idea of take away Heaven. "Can't see why not," he said.

Mycroft would be quietly chuffed had he seen how much Sherlock was capable of eating after a visit to London's most gruesome museum. Greg said nothing as Sherlock polished off all of his fish and most of the chips in contented silence.  
"I never done this before." Sherlock's voice was lazy with satiation.  
Not surprising given Magnussen's status and wealth. Greg looked for a neutral reply to keep the mood light. "We had it every Friday night in my house."  
"Food tastes much better like this than it does off a plate." Sherlock closed the box. " I can't eat anymore... I feel bloated, I'm going to spend the rest of the day lying down and feeling like a beached whale." His mood was surprisingly light. "I wanted to say thank you for today, I had the best time. Really."  
Greg's answering grin was infectious. "I've shown you ghoulish murder aplenty...introduced you to cheap takeaway cusine ... you've eaten far too much.... my work here is done, sunshine." He almost laughed at the startled look of surprise on Sherlock's face.

Traffic was heavy on the way back to Baker Street...stuck behind an exhaust belching red routemaster bus the length of Oxford Street.  
"You should take Mycroft." Sherlock's head was turned away to watch the orange clad Hare Krishna devotees handing out leaflets as he spoke. "I'm pretty sure he's never eaten fish and chips either."  
"We aren't actually dating." Greg edged the car into a gap in the traffic before a taxi could.  
Sherlock stared at Greg with a 'why are you being so obtuse' look on his face. "You are .... it's just the Mycroft version of dating. He probably hasn't told you yet in case you say no.... You wouldn't say no would you? I mean you do like him, its very obvious in the way your pulse is slightly elevated...."  
"I like him...." Greg cut across the blow by blow deduction. "He'll still have to ask me though....just so I can see him sweat!" A sudden realisation hit Greg....."He'll have have noticed the pulse thing too?" No way you could keep a secret round the Holmes brothers clearly!  
"That or the fact that you'd masturbated...almost certainly thinking about him... about half an hour before you came to Sunday lunch at Chester Street." Sherlock announced emphatically. "It was impossible to miss really."  
A shocked Greg almost drove right into the back of the white van ahead of him! 

Alan came downstairs into the hallway in his socked feet to greet Sherlock with a hug and a kiss, not troubling to hide it from Greg as he would have done from Mycroft or from John.  
"You go on up love, all that science stuff you ordered came. I put a box on a chair next to the table for you. Don't try lifting the other one, its heavy. Mind how you open it... it's likely full of packaging that'll make a right mess."  
Sherlock shot up the stairs two at a time.  
"Thanks for showing him that, he looks happy .... probably be spouting corpse facts at me for ruddy days now." Alan smiled but there was something off about the man that Greg couldn't put his finger on.  
"I enjoyed it, it was good getting to know him." it was the honest truth...."Everything ok?" Greg checked.  
Alan hesitated....  
"Alan, the packaging is going everywhere... and I mean everywhere! It's worse than confetti!" Sherlock yelled down the stairs.  
"Coming lad." Alan said with a good humoured roll of his eyes.  
"I'll drop some new cold case files round on wednesday if he's about? I've a great one he'd love.... a murder in a locked room. God knows how the killer got in or out." Greg offered.  
"Have to be next week," Alan said with an uneasy glance up the stairs. "He'll be in heat for five days, from the day after tomorrow.... No visitors allowed."

Sherlock had unpacked half of box one by the time Alan came upstairs and closed the door behind him.  
"I told him. Didn't feel great lying to him. He's a good bloke, Greg." Riddick said as he watched Sherlock pull a huge glass flask out of the box amid a shower of yellow polystyrene pieces that went all over the kitchen floor. "You sure you want to do this? We could just come clean about the baby."  
"I don't like lying either but we can't tell anyone yet. Not until I'm past the point for a termination. We've talked about that Alan. You know we can't. If Charles finds out I don't know what will happen.... maybe I'll never get to see Aleksander"  
The lad had a good point...Alan couldn't argue with that.

Sherlock was rumaging elbow deep in the box.... pulling out a tiny box and opening it right away to pull out and open a tiny bottle. He sniffed it dubiously..."I can't smell anything...You try!" Quick as a flash the bottle was under Alan's nose.  
"Jesus Christ!" One unprepared inhalation and Alan was hard and straining uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans.

"Well...Does it smell real enough to you? Are you hard?" Sherlock demanded answers.  
Alan groaned and pushed the solid bulge of his cock away from his zipper as best he could. "Could say that." He muttered awkwardly."Bloody Hell, bit of warning before you do that wouldn't go amiss !"  
"Ha! It works!" Sherlock announced excited.  
"It's fake slick lad, course it works." Alan fought the urge to unzip right there in the kitchen and palm his cock roughly. "Not as good as the real thing but it'd do the job."  
Sherlock was staring at the bulging shape of Riddick's turgid cock clinically at though the Alpha was a scientific experiment in arousal. "What does that feel like?" He asked curiously.

Alan frowned, the throbbing arousal making his thinking fuzzy. He took a few deep breaths to clear his head before he spoke. "Do you mean the knot or....?"  
"The slick...when you scent it?...When you scent me?"  
Alan took a few much needed minutes to think of varied cock wilting topics before he answered. "The fake stuff.... a rush. Sure you get hard in seconds but there's nought behind it. physically you're aroused but emotionally there's nothing. Now with you, my lovely lad... its not just physical its more emotional. You're all I want, it gets so I can't think about anything else. I just want to keep you close as I can get you then get you even closer....get inside you... stay inside you." He gave an bemused shake of his head, it was impossible to explain the mix of possessive , protective love he felt. "I love you Sherlock.... you know that."  
Sherlock's smile was shy, almost embarassed and ridiculously sweet.


	16. Holding Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a busy shift at work and a lot on his mind..  
> Both John and Mycroft make the situation very clear to someone who respects no boundaries......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue....the track is I Ain't The One by Spoon.

John was running late and the bus was stuck behind a angry delivery man and an even angrier removal van driver who were yelling abuse at each other. Someone had called the police. Knowing traffic was going to be going nowhere in a hurry now the police were involved, John got off the bus early and headed for St Barts on foot, walking so briskly his thigh began to ache.  
A quick change into scrubs and a couple of paracetamol later and John walked down the stairs , his leg felt worse but he was determined not to start medicating the pain again. It was managable.... just.

The ER was busy.... and noisy, a baby was screaming loudly somewhere behind a curtained cubicle. John was handed a heavy pile of patient files within moments of appearing behind the staff station in his blue scrubs.  
"Please tell me I didnt get all the patients nobody else wanted?" He checked in with Mo, the charge nurse.  
"I could John, but it'd be a lie." The Beta said with a wicked smile, his teeth a white flash in his glossy black beard. 

First patient of the day .... a middle aged scaffolded from Peckham called Tony, had sunk a few too many beers down the pub at lunch and had ended up losing his balance and dislocating his shoulder."About bloody time Doc...I'm in effing agony here mate!" The man was swearing a blue streak as his way of coping with the pain. Not a problem .... John swore pretty fluently himself and he liked the challenge of popping bones back into place. The patient's heavily muscled shoulder meant manipulating this joint back was tricky enough to break John out in a sweat but the satifaction he felt when it slid suddenly back into place was worth the care he'd taken.

The next patient gave off a ripe sour smell that John knew from experience meant the patient was homeless. Sure enough, Nora, the woman inside the curtained cubicle, was wrapped in so many layers of newspaper under her soiled coat to keep her warm that she rustled when she moved. There was a nasty looking gash in her hair from a topple as she'd stood up from the warm air vent she'd spent the night on , she'd left it bleed for hours before coming in. John cleaned and stitched, and gave her a tetanus update chatting to her about her home country Ireland as he did so. Her homesickness was easy to see.... John made a point of giving her a sandwich from the vending machine, a phonecard he'd knew still had plenty of credit on it from his own wallet and the number of an organisation that bought Irish emigrants home. He hoped against hope that she'd use both.

Sonya, age 35 came from Luton and worked in a call center, was suffering from gastric flu and had a kidney bowl under her chin as she heaved and groaned. John gave her a pain killing jab and narrowly avoided getting his shoes splattered as she missed the bowl and hit the floor. He left her muttering "Oh God I hate tiger prawns," in the capable hands of the nursing staff after explaining she needed to avoid all food for 24 hours before reintroducing a bland diet again slowly, drinking only the rehydration sachets John had prescribed for her.

Paco was a sous chef in a Spanish restaurant John and Saul had eaten at a few weeks ago. The squid had been delicious. He'd had managed to slice through his finger while dicing onions. "Occupation hazard?" John asked as he numbed it up and starting cleaning and stitching, noticing the paler scarring on the man's tanned fingers. The Omega's dark eyes were fixed on John's competant needle work and he was leaning in so close to watch John stitch his skin that John could smell the sweet honey scent of the young man's breath. It reminded him of Sherlock.....

Brendan, a barman from Oxford Circus, had a nasty gash after being hit in the face with a pint glass. There was a shard of glass in his left eye so both his eyes were covered with bloody bandages , since if he moved the good eye he'd also move the damaged one. He'd be lucky not to lose the eye. John got him on some strong pain relief and referred him on upstairs to the specialists.

Heart attack. Leo was 52, heavily overweight and smoked 20 a day. The heart attack had been massive and the man's outlook was bleak. John felt sympathy for the man's elderly mother who was in tears next to his bed. He was glad to see Tracey , one of the ER's most caring nurses, was already by her side.

John had time to grab a tea and a bagel in the staff room. He had twenty new messages including one from Saul asking if John wanted to be his plus one at an award ceremony. Another from Aric Weber, arranging a meet... John knew he wanted to talk about the day Sherlock had been taken....  
The lab had called ...Sherlock's blood work results must be in. John could call in before he left for home later.  
There was the usual stream of texts and links from Sherlock. One linked to a You Tube page of a husky dog that went mental everytime its owner played maudlin tunes on her violin. Another link from Sherlock led to footage of some strange animal corpse washed up on the beach in Rio that people were hailing as an alien. Sherlock's text said simply ...TAPIR?....they'd had a running game of 'guess the real species of the body' going now for days and this, whatever it was, was the new identity challenge.... John squinted at the photo of the gas swollen corpse and texted back....FERAL PIG? LOADS IN RIO The phone buzzed again.....YOU WIN... MRS HUDSON WOULDNT EVEN LOOK followed by a devil icon was Sherlock's reply. John grinned at the screen and texted DID SHE SCREAM?..... Sherlock's reply was instantaneous..... V. LOUDLY!

John was tempted to ask what Riddick's guess had been... Greg had mentioned the Alpha had avoided the Crime Museum as he disliked ghoulish or gruesome things. John imagined that'd include distended animal corpses. He didn't ask.... since the physical fight between himself and Riddick, Sherlock had stopped mentioning the other Alpha around John entirely. John was left with an uneasy sense of residual guilt about that... knowing it meant Sherlock had realised the two Alpha disliked each other. John hated feeling that he'd let Sherlock down by not liking someone Sherlock obviously did . Truth was, things had been tense between John and Riddick for weeks. Both had been at some pains to stay civil in case Sherlock noticed there was something wrong..... but there was no hiding the problem now it had come down to a physical confrontation.

The heavy thumping punches had felt as good to land as John had thought they would but the retaliatory violence between himself and Riddick had sorted nothing , they were too evenly matched and there was too much at stake for either to walk away. John held himself accountable for his part in it all... he'd knew he'd wanted the outlet of blows to vent the jealous resentment he felt at seeing Sherlock with anyone other than him. He'd seen enough in Riddick's face, just before the man had slammed his skull down into John's nose, to guess the man had felt the same bitter jealousy. They were as evenly matched as they could be but Riddick had the advantage of height and the bastard fought like a man who'd grown up battling. John had met men like him before.... men who never let themselves lose.

John knew he was no pushover himself when it came to a scrap but sorting this emotional mess out was beginning to feel beyond him. Sherlock was back.... and he was still a walking temptation. Everything about him caught and held John's eye, from the succulent ripe curve of his lips to the easy, fluid way he moved. John knew his gaze lingered longer than it should.... a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed even if Sherlock was blind to it....

The sight of John in the doorway may make Sherlock smile but John hadn't missed the fact that Riddick's level stare was more of a challenge than a welcome. The man saw him as a possible threat to whatever he had with Sherlock and didn't bother to hide it from John.  
On a rational level.... John knew, it would be best to take a step back... on an emotional one, it was impossible to know Sherlock was in the same city and not find himself walking up the stairs to see the Omega daily... sometimes twice daily. During the long painful years of Sherlock's absence John had tried to come to terms with the basic truth that his attraction to Sherlock wasn't going away simply because he couldn't have the Elite Omega as his mate. He'd learnt to move on and there had been a lot of other partners....both male and female, Alpha, Omega and Beta.... but although years had passed since he'd first seen Sherlock and felt that instant yearning desire, little had changed.... It wasn't right now he was seeing Saul but John couldn't stop obsessing over the fact that Riddick had got to spend his nights in Sherlock's bed.

The few times John'd let himself think about the type of Alpha who could attract Sherlock once he was free from his bond, it'd had always been another genuis.... someone who could match Sherlock mentally, even challenge him. Riddick didn't fit that ideal in any way. The Alpha was intimidating.... his warm Northern accent that made him sound a lot friendlier than the direct, distrustful looks he gave John proved him to be. John had no idea what Sherlock saw in the man.  
Sherlock said he was in love.... thought he loved Riddick enough to sleep with him and John could only guess what that level of trust meant to an Omega who'd been as abused and lonely as Sherlock. John didn't understand how the Hell Riddick had managed to inviegle his way into Sherlock's bed and worse into his heart, after everything John had seen him fail to do. What did Sherlock see in him?

Speculation was pointless anyway.... even if John did beat his rival to a bloody pulp, Sherlock wasn't just going to turn around and thank him with a kiss for showing him the error of his ways. It couldn't be that simple.

Whatever the relationship was between Sherlock and Riddick it raised a whole set of worries John really wished he didn't have to worry about, let alone bring up, but if he didn't who the Hell would....someone had to broach the joint issues of consent and contraception with Sherlock.  
Alan Riddick didn't strike John as the type of man who had a low sex drive. Sooner or later.... and from the way the man watched Sherlock obsessively; John had a feeling if Riddick had his way it'd be sooner.... he'd decide to go all the way there with Sherlock. So soon after everything Magnussen had done, moving to that next level held the potential for things to go badly wrong....  
If Sherlock managed to break his bond that'd free him for Riddick to make a move, share the Omega's heat and claim the Omega. In a shared heat when love became lust and lust a hormonal surge of giving and taking it'd be too late for negotiation.... Sherlock couldn't change his mind and decide not to bond..... once that knot was in and Riddick's Alpha fangs came down, it'd be too late. There was no way John was going to let that happen without finding out exactly what Sherlock wanted and what Riddick planned on doing to be sure Sherlock had free choice.

That conversation should go well.... John pushed his plate away with a heavy sigh. He wasn't kidding himself... It was a nightmare of epic proportions.

After lunch it was straight back in at the deep end.  
Saha was thirteen months old, just walking a few short weeks and had taken a nasty fall on the tiled floor of a shopping centre. There was an egg sized lump on the back of her skull and John needed an interpreter to tell the worried parents that she'd need to be kept in for observation. She'd screamed even louder when she saw John but by the end of the exam she'd given him a wobbly smile every time he winked at her and shown him her favourite toy panda on her way out past the nurses station.  
"You'll make a terrific dad one day John,"Mo said.  
"Helps to have a little sister growing up," was John's truthful reply.  
"Next patient is a weird one John. Something not right if you ask me. Says she has a pain but seems way too calm." Mo handed John the file.  
"You think she's a faker? " John took a quick look at the admission chart without comment . Kitty was in her 20's, she'd presented with a right sided pain under the ribs she claimed had started during her morning run. "I'll take a look, then." 

When John pulled the curtain aside Kitty was sat on the bed with her mobile phone in hand and a giant handbag on the bed next to her. "Hello, I'm Doctor Watson."  
"Thank God, I was begining to think I'd been forgotten about!" the young Beta woman on the bed said with a smile, her dyed red hair was fastened up in a messy ponytail.  
John took a quick look at the chart at the end of the bed. " Sorry about that Kitty, its been a busy morning....Ok, why don't you tell me about this pain you're having in your own words?"  
Kitty gave John another smile and unzipped her running top to reveal a running top that barely covered her pert breasts. " Is it me or is it hot in here? I jog around Battersea park every morning.... I was about halway round when I got a pain like a stitch.... it hasn't gone." 

"Ok, I'm just going to listen to your heart and lungs if that's ok with you?" John waited for Kitty's agreement. He moved behind Kitty and listened to the Beta's breathing...there was no sign of infection as John asked her to breathe normally, take a few deeper breaths and finally to cough. "No signs of an infection.... that's good. Lungs sound nice and clear." John reassured the patient. " Can you sit back against the pillows for me please, I'd like to check your heart?"  
With Kitty reclining John's head was close to her breasts as he listened, one hand on the bed braced him into position. Kitty shifted under him and took a big breath in, her breasts lifting higher as she did. "Sorry , hope the stethscope isn't too cold?" John asked routinely, concentrating on what he could hear.  
"I know where I've heard your name before. You're the John Watson aren't you... you're friends with that Elite Omega who ran from his bond? With Sherlock?" Kitty asked breathlessly, her hand moved suddenly, brushing against John's. "You must know a lot about him? About what he's really like?" Her hand moved and pressed against John's groin.

John stood up abruptly and took a step back. "Let me guess," he said. "There's nothing wrong with you.... You're a journalist?" His tone was brusque.  
"You've found me out," Kitty said with a flirtatious smile. "My bad."  
"That explains the wandering hands and the lack of a sports bra." John said coldly. "Do you usually whore yourself out for a story?"  
Kitty was unashamed. "You're one of a select few Alpha who know Sherlock, you went to school with him didn't you? Shared a room? You must know so much about him?.... My readers want to know the truth John that's all.... an Elite Omega running from his bond, abandoning his Alpha for a bodyguard, leaving his child.... its a huge story... front page...."  
"It's really not." John's tightly controlled voice sliced through her wheedling explanation. There was a dark Alpha anger in his eyes that had Kitty staring up into them.  
"This doesn't have to be so tense John.... We could meet for a drink later? See what happens....You're a good looking man.... this could be fun. Word is you're a man with needs..." Kitty made the offer clearer.  
John laughed harshly. "Think I'll pass thanks. My needs are met." He pulled out his mobile and texted a fast message.  
Kitty wished she could get a decent look at the screen. "I'm going to write the story anyway John.... if you talk to me then it needn't be so anti Sherlock... you can give me the truth behind the gossip."

John's growl was no less threatening for being kept so low only Kitty could hear it. "Not happening. Sherlock's my friend.... even a lowlife like you should know what that means or do I need to spell it out for you? The very last thing that I'd do is hurt him or break his trust. I don't know what trashy paper you work for but you'll get nothing from me. You think you're the first journalist to come sniffing around? You're the last in a long pathetic line."  
"Sherlock's big news John...." Kitty kept trying.  
"That's where you're wrong.... he's a person, with feelings. He's a lot more than some damn headline to take you a rung up some pathetic career ladder." John snarled before he controlled it."You lied your way in here and you wasted my time... there are people in pain waiting out there who really need a Doctor."  
"Fine....Ok.... I'll go. If you change your mind...." She reached out and tucked her number into the chest pocket of John's scrubs. The Alpha's growl of distaste at her brief touch made his feelings clear. She reached for her bag and prepared to leave.

A new voice stopped her in her tracks.... "I'm afraid it won't be that simple Miss Riley." The auburn haired Alpha Elite in the immaculately tailored suit standing in front of Kitty made no move to step aside.  
"Mycroft. " John acknowledged the man.  
"Mycroft Holmes.... Sherlock's older brother?" It had to be him, Kitty was open mouthed, desperately trying to think of a way to open conversation. She'd struck gold here.  
"I'll manage the situation from here John. Thank you for alerting me." Mycroft's fastidious glance swept methodically down Kitty's body.... lingering on her chipped nail varnish and cheap clothing with cold Patrican dismissal. "Miss Riley.....you'd do well to remember that Sherlock Holmes has family and friends who care deeply for him. Now.... if that's all, my agents will escort you to the car. I'm very much afraid we need to question you on a matter of national security..... You should expect to be detained for quite some time....." 

When the protesting Miss Riley had been efficently removed , John met Mycroft's intelligently evaluative eyes. "That's the fourth bloody journalist to try me. She offered to fuck me for the story. At least I think that was the offer."  
Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he considered that fact. "Tabloid journalism," he said with a sigh.  
"Maybe its time to take Aric up on his idea and speak to a journalist of our choice? Someone with a bit more integrity...." John hated saying it but what choice did they have. "If Sherlock has to be headline news it may as well work in his favour."  
Mycroft's mouth straightened. John knew he hated the idea of the inevitable exposure and humilation Sherlock was facing. "I'll arrange a meeting.... Sherlock will be in heat.... there can be no harm in discussing it....."


	17. War of Attrition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things rapidly go from bad to worse for everyone....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see John and Alan as being physically very evenly matched.... John's injury is against him here fighting on the stairs gives Alan a definate advantage .
> 
> Blue....Track is Monument by Royksopp.

Mrs Hudson lay in bed and stared at the ceiling in a state of mild shock... in the room above her all manner of odd noises were preventing her from sleeping for over three hours now. If asked Martha would have said she was no prude, after all she'd lived in shared lodging houses with actresses in her time and those girls knew how to scream an orgasm that could be heard by the whole street.....She'd known some noisily sexual couples when she'd lived in Amsterdam's infamous red light district with her husband but.... well.... whatever Sherlock and Mr Riddick were up in the Omega's bedroom, sounded as though every item of furniture in the rooms above her little flat was being used to mate on.... repeatedly. 

Upstairs in 221b each room was its own disaster..... In Sherlock's bedroom the huge wardrobe had been moved away from its usual place by the window and the chest of drawers was out in the middle of the floor with all Sherlock's bedding heaped upon it in a chaotic mound. In the kitchen the shelves stood empty, the cupboard doors were all left wide open and the pots, pans and spices covered the small kitchen table. In the sitting room both armchairs had been upturned, the couch pulled out and the coffee table was covered in piles of books.  
Riddick heaved the mattress back onto the heavy wooden bed frame he'd just dragged out from the wall of the bedroom and went through to the sitting room in search of the Omega.

"Another one!" Sherlock's triumphant voice came from the sitting room as he found yet another tiny camera on top of a framed map of England. "That's six in the sitting room alone. Have you found any in the bedroom?"  
"Nope." Alan leant on the door frame and admired Sherlock's lovely arse as the lad stretched to feel along the shelves in the bookcase one by one revealing a strip of pale perfect skin.  
The Omega took a sudden look back over one shoulder. "Are you staring at my arse ....?" Sherlock asked doubtfully, sure he had to be wrong.  
"What? .....No!....."Alan protested...only to give up when Sherlock gave him an 'as if' look that showed denial wasn't working. "I can't help it .... its a bloody gorgeous little thing, your arse...." Alan defended his not so secret appreciation as best he could now he was caught in the act.  
Sherlock blushed a deep pink that went straight to Riddick's cock as the scrambled down off the kitchen chair he'd been stood on. "Pervert,"he announced with a smirk.  
Riddick shrugged with a studied cheeky nonchalance. "If an Alpha can't perv on the mother of his unborn child ... it'd be a sad, sad world." He grinned.... unrepentant. "We've been at this for hours lad.... there can't be any more spy cams left?"  
"Never...never, underestimate Mycroft," Sherlock answered. "We need to find them all , before he sees I don't really go into heat... or worse before he sees I'm pregnant now that I'm starting to show..."

The Omega broke off what he was saying and gave a huge yawn that left him shuddering. "We still need to check the bedroom...."  
"Nope .... it can wait till the morning. That's it for tonight lad, you're yawning your head off... you need some sleep." Alan said firmly. "Bed .... now."  
Sherlock opened his mouth to protest then gave another huge yawn and gave up on the idea. "In the morning? We'll have to get up early before Mrs Hudson gets up?"  
"Fine by me," Riddick agreed to any suggestion, desperate to get into bed.. "Come on lovely lad.... I need a good handful of that perfect arse before you fall asleep on me and start snoring...."  
"Pervert," Sherlock said teasingly, with wide eyed, feigned innocence as he walked past Riddick towards the bedroom door and felt the Alpha's eyes drop to his arse as he walked by. "If I told you'd I was naked under these pajama bottoms you'd be even worse..."

Downstairs poor Mrs Hudson shook her head at the sound of exagerated Alpha growling and shrieking Omega laughter that came from Sherlock's bedroom; immediately above her own and remembered what it was to be young...... 

"Are you even listening to me?" John was furious. " I said ....Sherlock's blood work came back saying he's pregnant and the best you can manage is a fucking... oh....like you knew already?"  
Saul slammed the fridge door. Hard. "What did you expect me to say John? He's Elite Omega.... getting knotted and getting pregnant .... it's what they do best....Basic bloody biology!"  
John caught hold of his tumbler of Scotch and drained it in one hard, angry swallow. "Not Sherlock....."  
"Yes Sherlock....! God, John how in denial can you be! I warned you about him.... I told you he was having sex! Bet you it's been going on years, right under Magnussen's nose!" Saul remembered the low voices of Sherlock and Riddick and the intimate sound of kissing he'd heard in the dark during that first long , cold night... when he'd been handcuffed to a chair in a squalid cabin in the woods. "You just don't want to see him for what he is now... you still think he's the same boy Magnussen took away! He's lying to you John."

John's eyes were darkened as he looked past Saul. "No.... Sherlock said he wanted to sleep with Alan , he never said he had yet!"  
Saul laughed as though John had said something funny and John's gaze snapped back to the other Alpha. Saul shook his head at the pain he saw in the other man's face. " No? ..... When it's going to be yes John? When the baby's head is crowning! Your precious Sherlock is fucking another Alpha for Christ's sake...."  
John's snarl was a warning. Starkly simple.  
"If he's pregnant.... it's Riddick's... and they've both been lying to you since he got here." Saul let that fact speak for itself.  
"Fuck!" John hurled the glass accross the kitchen to the tiled floor.... "Fuck! Fuck!...... FUCK!" He swore with savage futility.  
Saul shook his head and walked away.

 

It was morning .... weak grey London light illuminated a dull looking city of brick in which only the stucco broke the muted palate of faded colour.  
John's blonde hair looked ashen, almost grey. Saul saw the Alpha's fingers twisted deep into the strands, the empty bottle on the table beside the man and felt the weight of the silence that now lay between them.  
"How long have you been living with me... sleeping with me.... and wanting Sherlock?" Saul had to ask even when he didn't want to hear the answer.  
"I don't.... it's not as simple as wanting him...." John said flatly.  
Saul gave a single pained growl. "What is it then?.... Love? You want a bond...with him?" He made the word sound like something John should be ashamed of.  
The scorn in Saul's voice had John's head jerking up. The exhausted lines around John's mouth and eyes were deeply etched.

"He isn't your Omega John .... he never was." Saul tried to say the words kindly despite the twisting jealousy in his gut. "Right from the start he was bonded."  
John looked at Saul. "I can't walk away Saul , don't ask me that."  
Saul's hand covered John's as it lay on the couch arm. "I know you can't... you wouldn't be you if you could.... but you need to let the idea of him go John. You need to see him for what he is and what he can never be...."  
There was pain in John's face.  
"What we have.... you and me , John .... it works doesn't it? It was good , before Sherlock came back? Whatever your instinct is for Sherlock... thats all it is .... Alpha instinct to bond an Omega. He's made his choice... it isn't you. When he has Riddick's baby what you're feeling will stop.... when you see you can't bond him..... Don't throw away what we have for someone who is as good as taken already. Don't do that to us John." He could hear the need in his own voice and see the answering emotion flickering in John's face.... but it was still a relief when John turned his hand over and caught Saul's hand in his own....

It was the early evening by the time John managed to make his way over to 221b. Dark grey clouds scudded across the sky and a cold wind was blowing litter along the street. It felt like time had moved on without John in some weird irrational way.  
There was no movement at the window of Mrs Hudson's sitting room when John rang the buzzer, even though he leant with his finger on it for a good minute.  
Letting himself in always felt strangely like coming home... ahead of John the hallway smelt faintly of Sherlock's vanilla scent and John took a sad breath in. The stairs with their worn carpet led up to Sherlock and the dull ache in John's thigh muscle as he climbed them was more of a throbbing pain as he turned stiffly at the half landing.

"That's far enough." Riddick sat blocking the stairs up to the closed door.  
John really didn't want this bloody confrontation now...."I'm here to talk to Sherlock. Get out of my way."  
"Not happening.... go back down." Alan refused bluntly.  
"Like fuck I will!" John seethed and came up two more steps.  
"I said you're not getting past," Alan got to his feet in one fast move and as he stood up John punched him, hard to the jaw and sent the other Alpha reeling back against the front door to 221b.  
The sound of Alan's back and head hitting the wood was loud and satisfying.  
John was on the landing now, back to the staircase which wasn't ideal as Riddick came back at him with a snarl and caught John by the jacket to slam him into the wall.

There was a struggle ....brief.... fierce and attritional in the confined space....John pushed hard into one wall, his cheekbone bloody .... Alan forced back into the wood of the door with a sharp crack of splintering wood and an exclamation of pain that had John moving in fast to finish it... unthinking .... before Riddick blocked John's punch by catching his fist, yanking John off balance. Using the advantage of height to force John's body around to put all the pressure he could on John's weaker leg until he had John face first up against the door of Sherlock's flat, put enough pressure on the arm he'd shoved right up John's back to break his wrist. "I'll kill you... you bastard!"John swore. The pain in his leg was red hot, tearing through muscle and sinew alike.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? " Riddick's voice was a snarl torn from his throat. "Sherlock's in heat.... You're going in there over my dead body!"

"He's pregnant ... how in Hell can he be in heat! You got him pregnant you bastard!" John growled angrily and Alan let go of him suddenly with a brutal full body shove that sent John sprawling partway down the stairs before he controlled his fall. The pain in John's leg as it was wrenched under him, had him sweating and gasping for air... It took a few minutes to control the urge to grab his thigh muscle with both hands to ease the agony... before John came back up the stairs.

Alan had his back to the door.... a deadly challenge in his face. "Stay down..." he warned.  
"Make me..." John snarled, his face set.  
John's foot was on the landing when Alan made a move.... the key turned in the lock of 221b and Riddick threw the door open so hard the handle hit the wall and held it wide, blocking the way inside with his arm.  
The rich scent hit John like a wall.... it was all he could taste....all he could breathe, thicker than air. He'd dragged in breath after shocking breath before he could think to cover his mouth and it stopped him dead in his tracks .... painfully , suddenly , hard enough to knot and come. Oh Christ.... Sherlock had to be in heat....

Alan slammed the door shut hard before he took his own breath, even then there was enough Omega slick scent in the air to make his fangs descend... John steadied himself against the wall and faced Riddick who was staring at the naked Alpha arousal on John's face as though he wanted to kill him.....  
Sherlock was in heat....full heat.... upstairs he'd be open for the knot, covered in slick, wet and ready..... John fought to drag his mind back from that fact and stumbled down the stairs... unable to weight bear on his leg. Dimly aware of Alan following him down with dogged aggression.

"Alan....!" The door upstairs opened and both Alpha froze. The deep inhalation of Alpha testosterone saturated air that Sherlock gave was clear and all to audible. It took the Omega a minute to speak. "Alan...! I heard fighting?" Sherlock's voice was young and unsure.  
Riddick stopped in his tracks..... "Shut the door lad. Go back into bed. I'm coming back up." He didn't move from the stairs , watching John with a brutal hunger for violence written all over his face.  
John didn't break eye contact once. A direct challenge.  
"Ok..." Sherlock sounded weak and John's gaze flickered up the stairs instantly concerned, despite Alan's warning growl.  
The sound of the door upstairs closing had Riddick's head lifting and he turned to go back up.

"Get out. Stay out. Sherlock's not your Omega." Riddick spat the words out.  
"I'll go.... but , fuck you....I'll never stay gone...."John bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood, fighting the urge to fight back with word for angry pointless word....everything he'd wanted for so long gone.  
Riddick gave him one last stare , turned and walked away........


	18. Some Kind Of  Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John seeks out some good advice .... He isn't the only one.with that idea..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue....ages ago you suggested a scene with Mycroft sleeping on Greg's couch....
> 
> The track is Living In The City by Rhys Lewis.

John always found himself here after the shittiest of shit days. The nondescript street wasn't the draw, nor was the small house with its white PVC windows and potted geranuims ....  
The front door buzzer glowed yellow in the dark as John pressed it very briefly, then did the same thing twice more. It was his signature ring. There was a dim light on upstairs in the bathroom so he knew the person he'd come to see was still awake.  
It took a little longer than usual but then the hall light flicked on and through the thickly ribbed opaque glass of the front door, John saw movement.  
"Wait a minute John..." The voice was kept deliberately low. There was the rattle of a door chain being removed and the scrape of keys in lock and the door opened.  
John didn't wait to be asked in ..... he stepped inside as soon as the door was open with the familiarity of someone who'd lived in this house for a while and waited silently until the door shut behind him.

In the compact kitchen with its wood effect units and chef figure pepper mill, there was still a faint smell of lamb chops, rosemary and mashed potato. The saucepans used to cook the meal were still on the draining board and the tap was dripping.  
It still felt like a place that had once been home.  
Greg filled the kettle and clicked it on to boil while he set out two mugs.

"Sorry.... I didn't know where else to go. Things aren't great with Saul at the moment and Sherlock is the last thing he wants to talk about." John spoke quietly as the Omega poured out the tea, his back still to John. The belt on Greg's open grey dressing gown was hanging down and the man's tanned feet were bare under his checkered pj bottoms.  
Greg set the mug of tea in front of John without asking any questions and waited for him to talk....

"So he's not pregnant..? You're sure?" Greg kept his voice very low as he asked.  
"He can't be Greg... Christ, the scent was....incredible! I've never smelt anything so good." John's fingers tightened round the mug handle. Like most single Alpha, who'd grown up without an Omega in their own family, John could never get over how profoundly and immediately the scent affected him. He couldn't help looking up at Greg ...remembering the times in his life he'd got to share the other man's heat.  
The expression on Greg's face was one of thoughtful concern. "He's Elite, John... it's lucky you only got a lungful and didn't go inside the door. It's not like you to make a rookie mistake like that." Greg didn't need to spell out what could have happened.  
John stared at the dripping tap as he accepted the truth of what Greg was saying. He'd been shocked at the intensity of his own sexual reaction mere seconds after Riddick had opened the door. "I'll be more... a lot more... careful," he promised.

"When are you going to tell Mycroft about tonight?" Greg asked John quietly.  
" I'm not yet...I'll speak to Sherlock first...soon as he is out of heat." John said slowly.  
Greg shook his head."If Sherlock isn't pregnant then why'd he test positive at all?"  
John had been thinking about that all the way over to Greg's. " He must have been when I did the test. Elite Omega have a higher miscarriage rate at all stages of pregnancy, owing to a few factors. My guess, and it's just a guess without examining him, is that he may not even have known he was pregnant at all. If he lost an early stage implantation he may think the bleeding just came from the knotting dildo going through the cervix."  
Greg felt his body contract sympathetically, just thinking about using one of those painful looking double knot dildo's made him want to wince. Sherlock was so slightly built the idea of one fitting inside the boy at all seemed physically impossible. "If he got pregnant they can't be using any contraception."  
John's jaw tensed. "That ignorant bastard Riddick probably still thinks withdrawl works."

Greg took a second before he spoke. "Sherlock knows you two don't get along John. He didn't say a lot about it but it upsets him, that much is easy to see."  
"I know he does. I've tried Greg ... but I can't stand the man." John admitted his level of dislike honestly. "It's got physical twice now. I can't just leave it alone , he gets right under my skin."  
"You don't have to be his best mate John.... If you don't think he's the right Alpha for Sherlock... and I'm not saying I agree, I don't know him well enough to judge ... but if you've got good reasons for doubting him... that's all the more reason to be there for Sherlock isn't it? Then he'd have you to talk to if things do go wrong.".  
"Saul asked me to take a step back, he thinks I'm over involved with Sherlock but I already told him I can't do that." John admitted.  
"That's the polar opposite of what I'm saying...Sherlock needs you.... Maybe if you gave Riddick a chance...?"  
"Then what? Don't tell me that bastard has got you thinking he's an ok bloke as well?" John couldn't believe this. "He kidnapped Sherlock for Christ's sake!"  
Greg drew in a slow breath. "Sherlock agreed to go along with him John... ok, I know he must have been desperate to get out from under Magnussen's thumb but, if it was only that, then he needn't have stayed as long as he did. He spoke to Mycroft on the phone... if he wanted an out he could have said where he was at any time and he'd have been rescued so fast Riddick wouldn't have known what hit him."  
"Stockholm syndrome....?" John put the theory out there.  
Greg looked at him with the clear thinking eyes of a top ranking detective."Or....? Could just be attraction, plain and simple. They'd kissed behind Magnussen's back more than once, Sherlock even let himself be scented. You might not like Riddick but he's a good looking bloke."  
John was shaking his head slowly. "If you'd knew Sherlock before you wouldn't think that."  
Crunchtime...."But that's just it John.... he can't be the same Omega, not after all the shit he's been put through. He lost a child , had a child, he's been abused, raped, beaten.... Sure he's making baby steps towards settling in here but you can't weigh it against everything he's known life to be. It's early days. He knows how much he's been changed.... how much he's lost.... you can see it in his eyes, can't you? He gets this look whenever it happens, like he's scared?"  
John knew the look. Confusion and fear. He'd seen it far too many times.

"Walk a mile John.... that's all I'm saying. Sherlock's young... teen hormones all over the place.... it'd only be natural that a good looking Alpha would catch his eye.... If Sherlock wasn't Elite he'd be dating, trying the odd hook up, maybe getting ready to share a heat for the first time... " Greg saw John's mouth twist but he continued , phrasing what needed saying gently. "He's been with Alan a while now, maybe that sexual side of him is just coming out a little more naturally... That's a healthy sign isn't it... if he likes an Alpha enough to try...as long as he's with someone who repects his limits? I've not seen any signs of abuse... if you have, then now's the time to speak up... but it looks like a pretty normal relationship to me?"  
John didn't speak. His gaze fell on the draining board , noticing for the first time that Greg hadn't eaten alone ... two plates, two forks , two wine glasses. "None. You don't think it's all too soon then? For him to be with anyone?"  
" Not my decision John. If he feels ready I would guess he'd know that for himself. He didn't talk to you about it then? " Greg wasn't surprised when John shook his head. " That's another problem you need to deal with John. The way things are now, Sherlock can't even talk about who he's dating with you, John.... it's the kind of normal shit that friends do. Instead, he's stuck in some bloody limbo between the two of you . Can't mention you to Alan... can't mention Alan to you.... That sound anyway normal to you?" Greg was quietly angry on Sherlock's behalf. "Hell, you're a Doctor , maybe he'd even have asked you about the things he needs to know about, like contraception, if he felt like you wouldn't judge him for it."

John sighed and put his head in his hands. "Blame the Alpha why don't you." He groaned, only half joking. "Come on then Greg... you tell me, what do I do when the Omega I've wanted my whole life is with somebody else right under my nose."  
" When it's someone as damaged as Sherlock is ? .... I say try to be happy that he's managing to feel anything at all after all the shit he's been put through... and you make damn sure you're not making things any harder to cope with for him than they are already. The John Watson I know would put the Omega first , ahead of anything else he might be feeling."

John's eyes were locked on Greg's. Eventually he gave a tight defeated smile. "How'd I manage without your advice Greg? "  
Greg's quiet laugh was warm. "You listen to it a lot more than you ever did when we dated that's for sure."  
John's mildly bitter laugh admitted the truth of that. "Classic case of not knowing what I had until it was gone...story of my life."  
Greg did the best he could to make John see. "You need to get your head straight before Sherlock decides to talk to you about what's been going on..." Greg hesitated.  
"Just say it Greg."  
Greg's hazel eyes with their deep amber flecks met John's direct glance. "What you think matters to him John , but if you start making him doubt his own decisions just when he's begun making them for himself, you could do a lot of damage. He's no confidence as it is."

John knew Greg was speaking as an Omega now and not just as a friend. " Yeah, I know. It's good advice, Always is ...I'll try and stick to it." John said finally and got to his feet. Time to go... he'd already taken a chunk out of Greg's night and this wasn't his home any more.  
On the doorstep John turned up his collar before he spoke, the street lights made his hair look very fair but left his eyes dark and for a moment he looked like he had when Greg and he had been together. "You and Saul? These problems....are they serious?" Greg asked.  
John's face said maybe but the answer contradicted that. "No , we'll sort it out with a good fuck, same way we always do. We both know the score." He'd turned to go before he turned back, remembering the two wine glasses he'd seen in Greg's kitchen. "If this guy you cooked for doesn't recognise what a good thing he could have with you Greg.... he'll be an idiot."  
Greg's grin was quietly satisfied. He didn't deny that he had someone . "Yeah? I'll keep telling him that. .... Night John."

The house was quiet as Greg locked up again and turned out the kitchen light. Instead of heading upstairs he opened the door to the small sitting room quietly for one last look.  
In the armchair closest to the fireplace Mycroft Holmes was sleeping, under a blanket Greg had placed over his long legs. Mycroft's head had fallen a little to the side. in the dim light his features were softened, with his jacket off and his waistcoat unbuttoned he looked younger , less formal and Greg found himself smiling looking at the Alpha's black socked feet poking out from the blanket he'd had lain over Mycroft earlier. Of all the new informalities in the Elite Alpha's appearance when he slept, that one small domestic change touched Greg's heart the most.... as he shut the door silently and went up to bed alone.


	19. Time Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds there are some serious disadvantages to his plan to fake a heat....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this won't happen often but its a 3 update week...my way of saying thank you for the incredible support, comments and kudos people reading have left me!
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Truth Is A Beautiful Thing by London Grammar.

Four sleepless and ultimately boring days of lonely silence later and Sherlock could admit he'd overlooked some serious flaws in his plan. Being stuck in a heat suite when he was actually in heat was bad enough .... being trapped inside one on his own when he wasn't in heat was close to intolerable.  
Reading..... book after book, after book after book..... passed some time but after three days staring at printed pages for hour after hour, even Sherlock's eyes began to ache.

Internet access was out.... Mycroft would certainly notice if , instead of writhing about on a bed in a confused state of aroused submission longing to have a knot in his arse, Sherlock was online and browsing infomation on how variations in soil acidity and type affects the decay rate of buried bodies.... or at least that was what he would be browsing if he could without blowing this whole deception sky high.

He daren't touch his violin in case Mrs Hudson heard, even though he was itching for something to do and had a composition running through his mind constantly for a day at least. Sherlock was driven to playing the notes in thin air on nothing and wishing he could hear how it sounded.

He had four baths, one a day, and soaked for as long as he could in each one.... He'd never run his own before. The first had been a disaster, he had filled the tub almost to the top and poured in a whole bottle of bubble bath while the hot tap was running....the resulting mound of foamy bubbles had reached his chin and had taken him twenty minutes to shower all the foam down the plug hole after he'd got out. Further experiments had shown that two and a half capfuls of bubble bath, gently stirred in, provided the optimal bubble ratio.

He read the Elite Omega pregancy books Alan had bought and looked at his bump in the mirror from the front and both side views. It didn't look as big as the illustrations in the book, which was worrying. He thought that maybe he wasn't eating enough....so he altered the time lock on his side of the door and snuck out to the kitchen in the early hours before dawn making sure he didn't make a sound. He ate a whole tub of banana ice cream.... then felt queasy for the rest of the night.

He built a tower from a deck of cards.... that took a steady hand. It was also incredibly boring.  
He wished he still smoked.  
Out of sheer boredom he searched through the pockets of Riddick's jacket and found three receipts and a small unopened packet of salted peanuts that dated from life in Finland. Just seeing the packet made him feel homesick for the cabin and he comfort ate them all.

He organised his sock drawer.

He had a whole series of irate texts from Mycroft.... he didn't need to open any to know his brother was furiously indignant that Sherlock had ripped out his surveillance cam's.

He read some more of the pregnancy book and discovered he shouldn't be eating peanuts now he was pregnant. Great! He hadn't even had the baby and he was doing the wrong thing already!

He pulled some single hairs out from various locations on his own head and stretched each one under the most strictly controlled conditions he could manage (ie....between his fingers! ) given that he was trapped in a heat suite and not sat in his dream laboratory , to see if curly or straight hair had more tensile strength.

He found a peanut he'd dropped on the duvet and tried to perfect his throw... sat crosslegged on the bed and aiming at random targets around the room. Finally he lost it in the ceiling light fitting and couldn't reach to get it back. Game over.

He missed Mrs Hudson's morning chats and John dropping by to tell him funny anonymous stories about patients and Mycroft tutting at him over the chess board when Sherlock almost made a move that could give Mycroft checkmate in another five moves.

He thought about Aleksander, even though he knew better than to do that.... Unable to forget the solid, trustingly warm weight of the child's sleeping body in his arms and how for the first time in his life he'd felt protective love. He never been sure he was maternal but now that he had cuddled his son, he knew how it felt .... that impulsive need to shield someone vulnerable and keep them safe, to hold on and not let them be taken away.  
It was harder to remember what had followed that... Aleksander's screams.... Charles terrifying cold anger... the blows to his head that had sent him sprawling, the fist in his hair pulling him back up when he'd tried to curl up defensively, the slaps to his face that bruised bone and snapped his head around so hard it hurt his neck...  
Sherlock knew he was breathing faster just remembering, his stomach felt raw as it clenched sickly. Moving fast he ran for the bathroom and retched emptily over the sink. After he felt clammy and shaken and he made sure he didn't look at himself in the mirror because he never wanted to see his face after he'd been crying because of something Charles did to him again in his life.....

He refused to let himself think about having to go before the Bond Court to ask for visitation rights .....

He went to bed early because he just wanted the day to end. The bed sheets were cold when he got in. There was scent on Alan's pillow when he pressed his nose hard into it and breathed deep but the scent was faded. He missed the Alpha so he slept that side of the bed anyway.

He worried about the fight he'd heard between John and Alan. The things he'd heard them both say, the struggle he'd listened to in a panic from behind the door wishing he could just open it and stop them both... and the quietly deadly way he'd heard Alan go down the stairs after John who sounded like he was limping, that had made him fling the door open wide and call Alan back.  
He tried to work out ways he could fix things so all of the people he cared about could start over.... it felt like it was all his fault. 

He tested his sense of how fast time was passing by hiding his watch and seeing if he could tell when an hour had gone by....

He tried not to panic every time it got dark and there was abolute silence and a closed door just like there had been in Apple Dore.  
He had two nightmares and woke up covered in sweat with his heart pounding.  
It had felt so real.  
He was on his own and he'd forgotten how to calm his own racing heart so all he could do was rock, amid the terrified gulps of air that made his chest ache.  
It wouldn't have happened if Alan was there and that thought made him surprisingly angry with Mycroft and John for being Alpha and having the power to say no to the things Sherlock wanted.

He lay on his side and did nothing for a whole day after that..... until he heard Mrs Hudson's voice.... apparently she'd been knocking and calling his name for ten minutes.  
Sherlock was sure to strip the bed and pour what was left of the fake slick over the sheets, he threw a few drops around the floor artistically for added realism. He put a baggy hoodie on over his pajama bottoms to hide his changing shape and slipped the empty bottle into a pocket before opening the door.

He had the 'soiled' heat sheets bundled up in his arms when Mrs Hudson exclaimed "Oh Sherlock, there you are love. Don't you look pale? You sit yourself down, I just made a fresh pot of tea... Goodness me are those your sheets? You don't need to strip the bed sweetheart... that's why I'm here."  
Sherlock just had to smile weakly and watch as Mrs Hudson took the sheets and stuffed them into the washing machine.  
It was that simple.... the evidence of a faked heat washed away as Sherlock watched the white sheets turn around and around in the washing machine drum and sipped his tea while Mrs Hudson fussed over him in small, motherly ways that made him want to hug her.


	20. In The Lions Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg sticks his head into the proverbial lions mouth and tries to have a chat about Sherlock with Riddick.  
> One of the things he wants to talk about is contraception and avoiding a pregnancy..... That goes about as well as can be expected.... bearing in mind that the Elite Omega is already carrying Riddick's baby ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tracks are Iron Sky by Mo Adeniran and Work Song by Hozier...one for mood and one for lyrics! TY Blue!
> 
> This may be a triple update weekend as I can't stop writing!

Greg wasn't a huge fan of gym workouts, preferring to cycle and take part in the odd fun run for charity. The places were usually wall to wall Alpha and on a unseasonably hot spring day the reek of testosterone and sweat had long ago passed the level of mildly masculine and entered the rank zone.  
Add to that the fact that any unbonded Omega in an Alpha gym could expect to attract attention that varied from the annoying offers to show them how to use the equipment to less subtle, blatantly sexual offers that involved meeting later in the grubby toilets out back. He was aware of a few long stares as he walked by and avoided making eye contact calmly.

Greg spotted Mycroft's suited agents looking very out of place down the end of the gym. In a cordoned off area behind them, Alan Riddick was doing lunges, going down onto one knee and up again with a barbell across the back of his shoulders. He looked so surprised to see Greg there it was almost comical before his expression changed to concern. "Greg? Everything alright with Sherlock?"  
"Far as I know. He's still with Weber.... I'd like a word."  
"Right..." The Alpha looked puzzled."Best say what you came to say then.... There's a juice bar... on the mezzanine... better place to wait than in here. Give me 15 minutes to cool down and shower? "  
Greg nodded.

The juice bar was bright and cheerful, lime green walls and a curved glass fronted bar full of fruit. It was also noisy.... Greg got an orange and mango juice he didn't plan on drinking and went through to a table at the far end by the window.  
It look Riddick about 20 minutes to appear at the top of the stairs and make his way over to Greg. He'd a protein shake bottle in his hand filled with the usual powdered shake.  
"You don't drink the juice?" Greg asked.  
"That sugary shit... nope. You need a protein hit after a workout." Alan was friendly enough verbally but his eyes stayed wary. "Why are you here Greg... this about what happened with John?"  
Direct and straight to the point.... well Greg could match that and raise the stakes. " No.... This is about Sherlock."  
Riddick frowned. " What about him? He was fine when he left this morning."

"I'm here to find out if there's room for anyone who disagrees with you in Sherlock's life... because from where I'm standing I'm not bloody sure." Greg spoke his mind. "Let's say I thought Sherlock would be better off with you taking a step back, out of his life? What would that mean for me bringing over the cold cases and spending time with him when you're not around?"  
"It's a shame you feel that way," Alan's eyes had hardened but he still sounded reasonable. "I thought you were a bit more open minded than that but if you've picked a side then that's down to you.... I can stay out the way anytime you call over? It'd be a shame for the lad to miss out."  
"Why would you offer to do that?" Greg asked. "What's to stop me from bad mouthing you behind your back?"

Alan leant back in his chair, this time his eyes didn't leave Greg's. "You telling me that's the plan? Get Sherlock's trust and break us up? Maybe you want to worry a bit less about me and a bit more about your own motives in coming around the lad then."  
"Meaning?" Greg asked bluntly, calling the Alpha out.  
"Meaning .... Sherlock thinks it's the makings of a friendship. You know he's interested in the work you do, likes talking it over with you, says you listen to what he has to say when he sees something in those God awful photo's you bring over? He's not had many people he can trust. If that's all bullshit to get him on side and get rid of me.... only a bastard would use him like that." The Alpha's temper was showing now, there was a throaty growl underneath his words.

Greg wasn't surprised to see Riddick growing over protective. "I didn't say I had that opinion.... I asked what you'd do if I did." Greg spoke quickly into the stiff accusatory silence before Riddick could say more. "I genuinely like the kid," Greg said. "He's a bit different but that's not a bad thing. It's easy to see he's clever but he seems younger than he should be.... naïve even."  
"Aye. In some things. He's not had much of a life." Alan was matter of fact.  
"Where'd his interest in crime come from then? With me it was detective shows on TV."  
" No idea ...it's bloody morbid if you ask me." Riddick said.

Greg wondered if Sherlock knew that was Riddick's opinion. "I listen to what he has to say because what he can do is a gift.... he can see things in a crime scene just by looking that I'd need a whole forensic team to know. That kind of ability is a game changer, it can save lives, give a team a head start when it comes to finding a killer or a missing child."  
"He's that good?" Riddick sounded surprised.  
"I think he's even better than he's ready to let me see.... there's a lot that he keeps back and doesn't say." Greg hesitated, "Odd times he's blurted everything out its been like a stream of consciousness....I've never seen anything like it.... but after, he looks more afraid than pleased."

"The boss liked him quiet.... very submissive...but back at the start , before he knew better, Sherlock' would know things and say things that he should have had no way of knowing about. The boss didn't like it so he put a stop to it." Riddick's voice was lowered even when there was no one within earshot.  
"Put a stop to it , how?" Greg had a feeling he already knew.  
"How'd you think? " Alan said shortly. "But yeah, he'd think twice about opening his mouth with an opinion. There's things still make him nervous, that'd be one."

It was the first time Greg had ever heard the Alpha talk about Magnussen's treatment of Sherlock voluntarily. Remembering the images and footage, Greg knew his face showed his reaction to the horrific abuse he'd seen and knew Riddick had enabled.... as an Omega himself it sickened him. "Course you'd know all his triggers."

Riddick drew in a deep breath. "You've an opinion after all? Can't say I'm surprised. I've never hit him, not once.... but I've done plenty else wrong to him." The words stopped. "It didn't turn me on to do it, unlike that sick fuck he was bonded to.... Ask Sherlock if you don't believe me. I do none of it anymore. We don't talk about it...him and me."  
"Handy that." Greg said flatly.  
Alan made some noise in the back of his throat that bought Greg's eyes up. "Sherlock's idea ...not mine."  
Greg kept his gaze level with Alan's. "Like I say...that's handy."  
Riddick said nothing. 

"I don't plan on stopping calling round." Greg spoke quietly.  
"That's good. I don't recall saying you should." Alan's reply was taciturn. "Quit talking your way round the houses and get to the point."  
"Since you and John got up in each others faces , Sherlock's gone quiet about you to John and I'd bet he says nothing about John round you either." Greg watched Riddick closely as he spoke and kept his own voice calm. "You've no problem with me because I'm Omega... no threat. If I turned Alpha tomorrow you wouldn't trust me anymore than you do John... and I'd be no more welcome than he feels."  
Riddick snorted. " I'm not to blame for what happened last week. I was minding my own business, sat outside. The door was locked.... Sherlock was safe enough, he'd have gone into the heat suite with no bother, he just needed a little time.... John was the one trying to get inside the flat where he'd no right to be."  
"John knows that shouldn't have happened but you know why it did... he didn't think Sherlock could be in heat....Thank Christ he was .... if he had been pregnant it'd be be a disaster."

"Is that so?"  
There was a bitter resentment behind the Alpha's words than Greg didn't understand.... then he decided maybe he did. Any Omega who'd had a heat heard the words every time from an Alpha... 'want to breed you, want to fuck you full of pups'.....their need to breed a mate was notoriously strong.  
The contraceptive implant had changed a lot of things....made it possible for a strong willed Omega to have it all but Sherlock was Elite.... Omega in that group still had big families, as many as 10 kids wasn't uncommon. "He's Elite. Contraception can't be something he knows a whole lot about." Riddick's stare had become dangerously fixed, warning Greg off the topic... Greg still said it anyway. "Before things between you get that far.... John wants to have a chat with him about it."

"Jesus Christ!" Riddick slammed the fist holding his drink bottle down on the table and raised his voice. "What happened to sodding boundaries? There's some things are best kept private!" There was a discordant clatter from the juice bar as the Beta in charge who'd been blitzing fruit in a blender was startled by the sudden commotion coming from Greg and Alan's table and dropped the lid. Alan's ever present security began heading over.  
"I've respect for you Greg. You seem like a good bloke. The lad likes you." Alan paused and Greg knew a 'but' was coming..."But... I'm traditional when it comes to a relationship.... Some things I want kept between Sherlock and me. It makes for a tighter bond."

"When you say traditional... you plan on bonding then? Does that mean Sherlock having a career is out?" The idea upset him.  
Alan didn't answer the bonding question. "Don't be daft. Anything that makes him happy is ok with me. I think the world of that lad." Alan said gruffly.  
"That include him being friends with John?" Greg asked.  
There was a reluctant pause...."Aye. If it's what the lad wants." Alan said and shook his head as he answered as though he couldn't believe he was being stupid enough to agree.


	21. Breaking Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unexpected revelation at Aric Weber's office Sherlock realises what happened to him in Magnussen's study is no longer a secret. Footage exists and people have watched it....  
> Mycroft struggles to deal with the fallout...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue....track is The Scientist by Bipolar Sunshine.

Sherlock had said nothing since getting into the car. He'd yanked the seatbelt angrily over his awkwardly hunched frame when asked to do so but was moodily silent, avoiding eye contact and angling his face and body away for maximum privacy in the intimate space of the BMWs back seat. .  
Mycroft knew, of course, what was wrong. He'd been aware of the line of questioning Aric Weber intended to pursue today and had elected to say nothing, since nothing could make the topic any easier.

On the arm rest between the two Holmes brother's, Sherlock's hand was a tight, miserable fist, his long, elegant fingers clenched so hard the knuckles were bone white.  
Mycroft found himself staring at it , trapped in the memory of the tiny bitten finger nails and ink stained fingers of Sherlock's childish hand on the strap of his brown leather satchel all those years ago.... .  
Suddenly aware it had caught his brother's attention, Sherlock moved his hand carefully out of sight.  
Mycroft was surprised to find the secretiveness of the action felt like a reproach.

There was an audible hitch in Sherlock's breathing that revealed how close he was to tears and a constant trembling movement of his leg that he seemed unable to control.  
'The failiure to control a physical response to an emotional stress is an indicator of a weak mind' ....Mycroft could recall Siger's opinion as though it was yesterday but his own reaction was one of hopeless sympathy.  
Faced with distress that was so palpable and overwhelming, Mycroft knew himself to be inadquate in the face of his brother's need. 

"Sherlock...?"  
"I want to go home."  
"Perhaps if we talk...." Mycroft was unsure exactly how that would help but he knew the offer should be made.  
"No." The flatness of Sherlock's refusal was born of desperation.  
Outside of the car, as it moved through the London traffic, ordinary life went on. 

In 221b Sherlock stood on the shabby red patterned rug close to a small table that clearly had not been dusted that week and already bore five round, cup shaped, tea stains and looked at everything except Mycroft. 

The tiny kitchen sink was full....in a silver oblong washing up bowl were four mugs half full of tea. Mycroft handled them fastidiously as he washed up before filling the glass kettle.  
On the kitchen table behind him was an Optika microscope, several slides with something smeared across them and a metal kidney dish. Underneath a copy of Memoirs of A Bow Street Runner by Henry Goddard there was a notepad , its pages covered in the chaotic scrawl that was Sherlock's writing. Mycroft made sure he disturbed nothing else as he closed the notepad tenderly... feeling that the innermost secrets of his brother's life had been exposed painfully enough for one day.

The riualised slowness of brewing tea leaves in a teapot was usually something Mycroft found calming, however the agitated banging of drawers coming from Sherlock's bedroom was manic and disconcerting.  
Mycroft wondered if he should go in but Sherlock emerged, inexplicably clad in pyjama's and an all enveloping zipped fleece that was so large for his slender frame it could only be Riddick's. His feet were bare and vulnerable. The sleeves hung down over his hands leaving only his finger tips visible.  
"It's only midday , Sherlock...." Mycroft spoke from confusion, his own expensively bespoke clothing served as both armour and shield against the world. To see Sherlock so pared back and reduced was almost indecent. 

It was distressingly abnormal to sip tea under the angry emotive stare of a beloved younger brother who glared across the room as though he hated you.  
"Who?" Sherlock sounded as though he was speaking from the empty blackness of a void. "Who has seen that footage?"  
There was a tenderness round the socket of one of Mycroft's eye's that suggested migraine. He had the medication in his pocket but made no move to take it. "Mr Weber of course.... myself and John... my own personal staff, all vetted and cleared of course ...."

" What gave you the right to show anyone that ?" Sherlock looked ill, deathly pale and waxen.... breathing through his open mouth, fast and shallow like a stranded fish upon a bank. "Get out!"  
"Sherlock...." Mycroft heard the wheedling tone of appeasement in his own voice.  
"Get OUT!"  
"Sherlock....please...."  
There were magazines on the bookshelf , stuffed in on top of the disorganised muddle that was Sherlock's books.... Guns and Ammo.... he threw them at Mycroft one by one in a shower of paper and pages. "Get out! Get out! Get fucking out!"  
There was pain in the voice... endless and shuddering. Stripped bare.

"Sherlock... please. I had my reasons..." Mycroft's vision was tunnelling darkly around one eye. The pain was excruciating.  
"Get out!..... Get out!...GET OUT!"  
When Sherlock began throwing book after book at him in an orgy of violence Mycroft left..... but on the landing outside.... stood in blessed anonymity, safe behind the closed door.... he hesitated , unable to leave and equally unable to stay.... listening to his brother break apart.....

 

There were times when Greg regretted offering someone a lift and this was one....before Riddick could even get into Greg's car the Omega had to move armfuls of paperwork and case files to the back seat. "Sorry, I keep meaning to drop it in for a clean." Once the seat was moved back an old bottle of water and several packets of cigarettes were exposed, along with some nicotine patch boxes. "I'm trying to quit."  
"I think you need to stop buying the smokes for that to work." Riddick said as he emptied the ashtray out the car door into the drain.  
Smart arse. "It's not that easy," Greg said as he reversed out of the tight parking space.  
"Aye... but sparking up 20 a day can't help." Alan replied.  
"Sherlock smoked didn't he?" Greg checked traffic as he pulled out.  
"When he could get his hands on a cigarette. I smoked the odd one .... but he quit so I quit."  
"Just like that? Wish I had half his willpower." Greg admitted. "When everyone you work with is a smoker it's hard to stick it out."  
"The lad did a study of cigarette ash once."  
Greg was surprised to find he wasn't even surprised. It sounded like a Holmes idea. "Interesting was it?"  
"Bloody riveting." Alan said with a grin. " I got as far as paragraph one...."

Greg was surprised to see Mycroft's car still outside 221b. He was even more surprised to see Saul's car outside Speedy's café. "John's here..."  
Riddick gave Greg the same sharp look of dread that Greg had seen on the faces of fearful partners a hundred times, and made a bolt for the front door and up the stairs at speed...


	22. Welcome To My Dark Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock can't hide how unhappy he is....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for self harm and a suicide attempt. I should probably add that Saul's opinion isn't one I share.  
> Its not all doom and gloom though....
> 
> Blue ....the track is Dark Side by Bishop Briggs.

Whenever Greg entered a violent scene he couldn't help but automatically begin filling in the blanks...trying to use the visual clues to piece together what had happened in a wordless storyboard of events.  
He did that now.  
Two cups of tea ... one barely sipped , one untouched on the coffee table.  
The heavy rug on the floor was rucked up, there'd been a struggle.  
A small side table had been knocked over and righted hastily, standing incongruously in the middle of the floor.  
Magazines and books were scattered all over the carpet as far as the door. Loose pages all over the floor.  
The stuffed bat in a glass fronted frame was broken open. There was splintered wood and smashed glass on the red rug.... one long shard sparkling in the sunshine like ruby red crystal.  
Blood on the rug by the fireplace, on the wall by the bathroom door and on the door frame. Heavier red splatters and etched scarlet sprays......  
John's grey jumper thrown carelessly aside onto the chair. The blood on it would never come out.

" Both wrists or one?" Greg had no idea why but it felt important to know.  
"One and a big slice out of the palm of his hand... John got the glass off him but he wouldn't let it go." Saul said dully. He looked like a man whose relaxed day out with his boyfriend had just ended abruptly in a bad way.  
"Oh Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson was in tears. Plucking ineffectually at the oven gloves she still held in her hands.  
Mycroft was motionless..... Greg looked to his eyes and saw the worry and the pain.

Sherlock's bedroom door was open.  
There was blood streaked over the sheet.  
The bedside lamp showed the gold in John's hair as he worked. Heavy glints clustered around the nape of his neck as he bent his head lower to see what he was doing. Greg watched as he dropped an empty syringe into a kidney bowl on the bed.  
" No embedded glass ....that's good." John spoke to Alan.  
All Greg could see of Sherlock was the long lean line of his half turned back and one outstretched arm. The pale skin of his bare forearm was striped with thin white and red lines.  
Sherlock self harmed, had been doing it for a long time, Greg realised.

"Greg....will you ask Saul to take Mrs Hudson downstairs and let her make him a cup of tea. She needs to feel useful." John spoke without turning around.  
"Course."

Sherlock's thin hand was pinned flat on top of the bed. It was gashed from side to side, neat black stitches scattered the skin like knots in barbed wire... sunk deep into skin and flesh.  
Riddick's broader hand and fingers wrapped Sherlock's hand round from beneath, his grip as immovable as a handcuff.  
"Hold the hand steady... I haven't used silk to stitch with in years." John didn't look up as Greg came back in, all his concentration centered on Sherlock's palm. "Christ what a mess..." He wiped and wiped at the oozing blood, cleaning around the edges of the wound with care before stitching again.  
The square white dressing over Sherlock's wrist hid the worst of the damage under its immaculate surface, it's bulk stiffly wadded to protect the stitched edge beneath.  
From the doorway Greg could hear Riddick's gentle muttered words.... "Ssh I'm here.... I'm here.... We've got you lad.... We've got you....."

Sherlock was sobbing. "Leave it. Just leave it bleed."  
It sounded like no crying Greg had ever heard before. A torn sound, broken and harsh in the warm afternoon light.  
"Fuck... how much more?" Riddick demanded desperately.  
"I've numbed it twice, he can't be feeling that... Just a few more Sherlock....yeah?.... Then I'll put a dressing on." There was a pressured note to John's voice.  
"It's alright.... nearly over lad. John's fixing you.... nearly done." Riddick hushed Sherlock over and over, his voice thickened and unsteady. "I'm here .... It's alright. I've got you lovely lad.... I've got you." 

Mycroft was alone in the sitting room when Greg came out. "John's finishing up."  
There was blood on the cuffs of Mycroft's expensive shirt. Sherlock's blood.  
"Saul took Mrs Hudson downstairs." Mycroft spoke slowly, staring ahead at the open door.  
Greg crouched down and placed a hand on Mycroft's arm , just above his hand. He could feel the vibration through the fine cotton shirt. "I'm not worried about Saul," he said kindly.....  
" I heard the glass break.... He did it all so quickly." Mycroft looked to see if Greg understood.  
"It's not your fault...." Greg said and tightened his hold on Mycroft's arm. "Sherlock will be okay.... He needs help but he will be okay." 

John could barely see Sherlock's lovely face, the Omega curled into Riddick's body, hiding himself away but he could hear the ugly English words Sherlock was calling himself, gasping thickly in between sobs.... "I'm dirty.... whore.... everyone knows...."  
"Hush lad... hush.... You're none of those things.... None of them."  
"I'll get him something for the pain.... Is there anything he can't take, anything he's allergic too? Would you know?" He wasn't surprised when Alan shook his head.  
John hesitated before touching Sherlock. Laying a hand reassuringly on his back... "I can give you something to help you sleep Sherlock...? Is that ok ?"  
Sherlock said something in Danish.  
Not a language John knew but the headshake was clear enough.  
"He says no. No painkillers and no sedatives."  
"I'll get them anyway. It's numb right now but that won't last." John touched Sherlock's shoulder briefly, wanting to do more to reach the Omega. "If you change your mind they'll be here." There was a dull ache in John's thigh as he stood. "I need to have a word with Mycroft... I'll be right back.... Alan... you can't leave him alone... not at all. Not for a second."  
"Aye ... I know. We've been here before."  
John wondered how many times Sherlock had tried this.

Saul looked out of place in Mrs Hudson's small kitchen with its net curtains and union jack tea cosy.  
John felt exhausted." Martha ok?"  
"She wasn't feeling too good. Nodded off in an armchair. She said to tell you, you're to wake her and tell her how he is."  
"I'll let her get some sleep first... Is that tea hot?"  
"It's cold. I can make some instant coffee. No idea how this loose tea works." Saul filled the old kettle. "Is Sherlock alright?" He'd turned to face John...stood close enough to touch him... and didn't reach out.  
"He's about as far from alright as it gets," John said bleakly. " I'm sorry about all this Saul."  
"It's not your fault he tried to kill himself John." Saul saw how John rocked back a little onto his heels at the words as though dodging a low punch.  
"He seemed to be settling in.... getting better, little by little." John's eyes were dark.  
"He needs help John. Mental help. He isn't right in the head." Saul knew the words were unkind. The jealousy twisted round him.  
John didn't react to the goad. Still and strong, a sentinel. "Go home Saul. Get some sleep tonight.... I'm staying here. He'll need watching round the clock. I'll call you tomorrow."  
Saul clicked the kettle off hopelessly. What was the point. "So you're on call...just like that? Staying here... all night? For someone who decided to slice their own wrists? " He was spoiling for a fight... irrationally angry at John.  
"I'm a Doctor, Saul. It's my job. He needs help." John's voice was deadened with surpressed emotion.  
"There's nothing you can do for him John. He'll never be right again." Saul was bitter. He would have said more, hurt that John had made this choice, that he was excluded. He threw the mugs he'd just set out into the empty sink.  
John took another step foward, Saul caught him roughly by the front of his jacket and hauled him in as John pushed him back against the kitchen cupboard. It was almost a struggle .... The kiss was bruising, full of an angry resentment that felt more like an accusation than love....

Greg watched as Mycroft took a long drag at his cigarette. "I say I'm trying to quit when people ask but who am I kidding... myself?"  
There was a shiver in Mycroft's voice, it was colder in the shadowed back yard that it was in the sun filled street. "Habits... even harmful ones...can be so hard to break."  
Martha's tablecloth flapped in the breeze on the blue plastic washing line John had strung up for her from wall to wall.  
" I'll get there in the end." Greg said wryly. "I'm an optimist, if you don't believe change can happen what else have you got to be hopeful about?" Greg watched Mycroft as the Alpha took another lungful of smoke. The smoke trickled from the man's lips and drifted upwards.  
" I should be hopeful... about Sherlock? Even now?" Mycroft was standing so close Greg could see all the varied shades of blue and grey in the man's iris.  
"About that and other things.....Yes." The time for looking away and not knowing was gone.  
As Greg leant in Mycroft didn't move. "I'm meant to wait for you to make a move....apparently.... but Sherlock said we've been dating your way for a while without me knowing and its been one Hell of a night.... bugger waiting."  
Greg's lips were warm and surprisingly pliant. The press of his mouth against Mycroft's stayed light and pleasant...the kiss felt like a question. Do you want this?  
Mycroft took a moment, having never done this before.... the first such moment of that nature that he had ever needed... before he kissed back. Greg's mouth tasted of smoke and honey. It was inexplicably familiar, like finding yourself in the company of someone you were always meant to know.

The sound of the back door opening broke them apart... "Mycroft? " John didn't step out for a long moment.  
That alone made Greg sure he'd seen them through the window.... 

In the tiny walled back yard space was tight. Greg didn't miss the look of disappointed concern John gave him as the Alpha joined them.  
"I'd ask you to allow me to admit him to a psych ward but I know that's impossible with things as they are with Magnussen. He'll need watching through the night for at least 3 days. Waking every two hours to check he's doing ok. I'll stay and Riddick says he has experience doing it. If you're ok with the idea I'd like have a sedative here in case Sherlock needs it and some painkillers. Injectable is safest. He said no to both but there's no point in him being in pain, later tonight.... He'll need a tetanus jab. I'll need a few clean dressings.... some basic supplies. We need to talk to him...he needs proper psychiatric help Mycroft."  
" Whatever you need John. Anything that can help."  
"I need you to tell me why he did this?" John said suddenly and Greg heard the impotently angry confusion in the Alpha's steadfast voice. " I need answers because I don't know why the Hell he'd do this to himself now when he's been getting better...?"

As John stood in the shade asking his questions and getting his answers, Saul was at home . Pulling open drawer after drawer , carefully searching underneath clothing and papers until he found it.... a silver memory stick that he'd never seen John use....  
The laptop was there. Open and ready.  
On screen was a study.... book laden shelves, a huge log fire on which half a tree burned and a black leather topped desk. Four Elite Alpha men in dinner jackets, drinks in hand and another heavyset man, in the black jacket and grey trousers of a Butler, who took care to stand well back, knowing his place, but never looked away from what was happening to Sherlock on the floormat.......  
Saul watched it all. Start to finish. Knowledge was power. 


	23. Ripples Spread Outwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The emotional fallout of Sherlock's actions effects everyone differently....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Owt...Yorkshire dialect , it means anything...  
> Shuft over....move over, make more room.  
> Brew....tea  
> Faff....fuss.
> 
> Blue ...the track is Play Dead by Tom Walker.

John had done a lot of difficult things in his time but this felt wrong to the core. It went against every instinct he had as a Doctor and an Alpha to say nothing, to stand back and let Riddick do this...... The urge to help was overwhelming.  
Alan had Sherlock pulled in close but Sherlock was still struggling to get closer.... desperate and needy, his pain raw and frightening.  
Riddick had his mouth in Sherlock's hair....pressing kisses into the smudged line where pale skin met dark hair....repeating the same words over and over. Pleading...."Hush....c'mon.... hush love.... You're breaking my heart."  
John had to step out before he lost control.....

"How's Sherlock John?" Greg asked the second he saw John in the kitchen doorway.  
John hadn't the words to say how Sherlock was , because when someone you love had just begged you to let him die there are no words.... nothing to come close to how broken Sherlock was underneath the facade he'd been putting on for them all. "Sherlock's ....he's.... not good... I can't get close to him without Alan kicking off again." He didn't need to add that Riddick had snarled at him, almost as soon as the bandage was on Sherlock's hand, in a clear warning to back off.... it wasn't an uncommon reaction from an Alpha when an Omega they cared about was in pain.  
There was a flash of indecision across Mycroft's face before he got up and brushed brusquely past John , heading into the bedroom, his face set and determined.

Every societal norm said that as a related male Alpha he should pose no threat but Mycroft took nothing for granted as he stood still at the foot of the bed, fighting his own emotional reaction to everything Sherlock was saying by concentrating on what he could 'do' for his brother. He spoke into the raw sob filled space between Sherlock's gasped inhalations. "It can help.... that is , sometimes it helps... to cover him up .... in the duvet." He didn't expect to be listened too.  
Alan didn't ask how Mycroft knew. "Aye?....Right .. Shuft over lad. Let's get these covers over you..." Riddick struggled to control Sherlock's panic long enough to edge the Omega's body back over the bed. Fumbling behind Sherlock's back, one handed , feeling blindly for the bedding.  
Mycroft stepped up, caught hold and pulled the duvet up covering Sherlock's hunched shoulders and let the duvet fall back over Riddick. It was the first time he'd ever tucked his brother into bed with an Alpha.... he was surprised to find it helped to be allowed to 'do' something to calm Sherlock, even when the 'something' he was doing was surreal.

"There love...that's better now..." Alan sounded sure as Sherlock's thin body shivered and shook.  
"Shuft?" Mycroft asked curiously.... between the hitched moments between Sherlock's exahusted shaking and Alan Riddick's love talk .  
"Aye. Means...move over. Yorkshire speak." Alan's voice was indistinct, his mouth already on Sherlock's skin , scenting and rescenting.... talking softly to Sherlock, soothing him repeatedly, over and over. "That's better now lad , isn't it...."  
Mycroft focused on the way Sherlock's breathing was slowing, slurring, becoming indistinct as Sherlock began to quiet and forced himself to ignore the size of Riddick's broad hand as it cupped the nape of the Omega's neck firmly , hiding the huge, ugly bite completely.... in ways it was a relief not to see it.....

"I'm going to stay the night," John said. "That way if he wakes and he's in pain it can be dealt with. That's if its ok with you, I'm good to kip on the couch."  
"Will be be in pain?" Mycroft sounded upset at the idea.  
"He probably will.... I had to put a lot of stitches in the wrist and palm...."  
Mycroft winced.  
"To be clear....If he's still suicidal , I'd have your permission to sedate him, even if he says no?"  
"Anything John.... anything that helps Sherlock." Mycroft admitted defeat.  
"How didn't I see that he was this unhappy ? " John couldn't get his mind around that.  
"Don't blame yourself. He hid it well. I'm here three times a week and I thought he was doing much better," Greg knew how John felt. it was a shock.  
"He didn't want us to see it John. He's gone to quite some effort to hide it from us all. I know my brother .... I knew there was something.... something not right... but I saw nothing of this ... depth of despair." Mycroft was ashen.

Two hours had gone by before John set foot in the bedroom again. Sherlock's breathing still sounded disordered but the heartrending sobbing had stopped and the Omega was asleep. Riddick had tucked the duvet down around Sherlock's body like a coccoon, leaving only the teen's dark hair visible. He was sat on the bed next to the Omega, pillows propped behind his back.  
"I'll need to check Sherlock's pulse and his blood pressure every few hours..." John kept his tone proffessional as he explained.  
"You can't touch him when he's sleeping," Alan said bluntly, "unless you want him to panic worse than he was.... Getting woken out of his sleep never meant anything good for him...."

Pain began waking Sherlock another two hours after that. John watched as Sherlock got more and more restless, the odd sharp intake of air as the Omega fidgeted in his sleep and resettled under Alan's watchful eyes.  
Agitated, Sherlock pushed his way out the duvet and lay breathing heavily as the pain began to bother him. "He must be roasting under the duvet in that hoodie," John said.  
"He said he was freezing. He feels safer in layers.... likes to keep his body covered up." Riddick said.  
John thought back...."At school it was always a coat. He had this black jacket, he'd flip the collar up ....look all mysterious."  
Alan gave a low laugh, stopping suddenly as Sherlock flung himself over onto his side and came to rest with his face hidden between the pillows.

"So.... you worked for Magnussen..... before he bonded Sherlock?" John was careful with the phrasing. It seemed like the perfect chance to pick Riddick apart , find out just who Sherlock was with....  
"Aye. He offered me a contract , advance on my pay, plenty of travel, possibilities for promotion.... a lot more money. I'd have been a fool to turn it down. It looked like a dream job ...the way I saw it. I needed a fresh start."  
That answer had come readily enough...."Where'd you travel?" John asked , keeping his voice low as Sherlock moaned in his sleep.  
"New York, St Petersburg, Cannes, Dubai, Monaco.... Denmark of course , all over Europe. No expense spared. He had the best always."  
Including Sherlock, John thought...."I'd believe that," John said. "The parties he and Count Aleyev host are notorious aren't they? Boys flewn in to wherever the party is held.... Did you ever go along to one? See anything? "  
"No comment." Riddick said. " Are you a bloody lawyer now?"  
"I'm not the one answering 'no comment' to a simple yes or no question." John reminded him. "Seems an easy enough question to me...yes, you were there and saw or no, you weren't and didn't....?"  
"Since when was seeing the bloody same as doing," was Alan's reply. "I can see a fucking car crash happen on the way home from the pub.... does it mean I got piss drunk then sat behind a wheel?"  
"Course not....but then you didn't exactly stop, get your arse out the car and help anyone who was hurt either." John was done with the other man's deflection. "Nothing to do with me.... that's your approach to life is it?"  
"Fuck you!" Alan said with a smile that was no more than a brief flash of teeth.

Sherlock whimpered in his sleep and John heard Riddick take a deep breath in and hold it as the Omega moved restlessly.  
"How much pain is he going to be in when he wakes up?" Alan kept his voice low and quiet, gentle as it aways was when he spoke of Sherlock.  
"He'll be sore. I've painkillers he can take.... some sleeping meds if he needs that...."  
"He won't take any of those. " Alan seemed very sure.  
It annoyed John that the man seemed so certain.... "There's no reason for him to feel it if I can give him something to help. What did he take at Magnussen's.... if he was in pain?" John didn't have to say 'after he'd been hurt' , the inferance was there and he made sure it came through in his tone...."What did you give him to help?"  
Alan looked John straight in the eye as he replied, his stare a challenge. "Most times he'd just lay in bed after....couple of paracetamol is all I'd give .... all I was allowed to give.... if he needed more, I'd send for Hoi but Sherlock hated him.... You get to tell after a while when it was more than he could cope with...."  
"How can you not feel guilty? You say you love him now but you didn't care enough to do something for him then? Or are you claiming you did but helping him get the fuck out of there didn't cross your mind somehow?"  
"I've no need to say 'owt to you .... I don't owe you a bloody explanation. You sit there and act like you did nothing wrong? If you hadn't been sniffing around him all those years ago at school trying to get with him ... Magnussen wouldn't have pulled him out of classes and shut him up like he did."  
"I was 19.... same age as Sherlock is now... what's your excuse? " John defended himself against an accusation that described the guilt he had felt for years.  
The disagreement was kept low , both Alpha making sure their voices stayed bitterly quiet.

Sherlock mumbled something that sounded like "no" and abruptly flung himself over towards Alan, coming to rest with one arm over Alan's groin and his face pressed into the Alpha's thigh muscle. Riddick stared down at the Omega before he spoke.... " I don't give a shit for your opinion.... the only person that matters to me is Sherlock.... Do you think he'd be here like he is, if he hadn't forgiven me already?"  
John couldn't help himself.... he gave an incredulous snort. "Do you think he'd have done what he just tried to do to himself if he was putting the blame on the right person? He let you off the hook because he thinks he loves you..... and taken all the blame on himself! "  
"He 'thinks' he loves me?" Riddick's smoky growl made his words vibrate and he wasn't quiet anymore. "Bloody Hell ... where do you get off acting like you know how he fucking feels? Talk about arrogant... " 

"Stop it..." Sherlock spoke weakly, his voice hoarse. "Just stop arguing...."  
Both Alpha stopped talking at once.  
"Sorry... you shouldn't have heard that," John said. He watched as Sherlock's pale hand reached for Alan's tanned one , squirming his fingers into the man's palm.  
"We're not arguing lad....more clearing the air...." Alan made excuses as his hand closed round Sherlock's finger tips. " You feeling any better?"  
"I heard ... both of you." Sherlock's voice was barely audible. "My throat hurts.... I need to sit back," Sherlock moved carefully, favouring his undamaged hand as he sat up.

Riddick reached for the pillows , piling them behind Sherlock's head. "Lay back now."  
Sherlock spoke in Danish, for Riddick's ears only, his eyes didn't leave Alan's as the Alpha helped him back to lay against the pillows."I'm sorry.... I shouldn't have.... I'm sorry."  
Riddck shook his head and Sherlock fell silent. The two staring at each other, eyes locked and faces close.  
John watched as Sherlock raised his good hand and laid his palm along the side of Riddick's jaw.... pale skin bright white against Riddick's tanned skin.... the tiny gesture wordlessly gentle.  
The Alpha pulled the duvet up over Sherlock's stomach, folded it over to double thickness and tucked it round him protectively before standing up, saying something in Danish to Sherlock as he did. Neither Alpha nor Omega looked away from the other.

John swallowed against the tension in his own body...the urge to step in and pull Riddick back ...."I'll put the kettle on shall I?" John made sure the offer included Riddick. "How'd you take your tea Alan?"  
"I'll make us a brew." Alan said tersely."You check Sherlock out."  
John looked down and away from the kiss the other man pressed calmly to Sherlock's forehead before he left the bedroom.

"Hey..." John said as soon as he heard voices in the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"  
"It hurts...." Sherlock admitted, he wasn't making eye contact yet.  
"I've some stronger painkillers ...." John made the offer.  
"No, it's fine." Sherlock looked away, ashamed.  
"Riddick.... Alan said you'd say that."  
"Yes... well, he knows me...." Sherlock's long fingers picked at the seam of the duvet cover.  
"And I don't?" John asked.  
"No.... You know me too, John.... It's just a different version of me you both know...." He sounded tired. Emotionally and physically.  
"Pre Magnussen and Post Magnussen?" John tried a joke.  
"Yes..." was Sherlock's matter of fact reply.

 

" You still speak Danish?" John was surprised, it was Magnussen's language..  
"I'm used to it... sometimes its easier than English. " Sherlock answered quietly.  
John looked at the heavy white bandages around Sherlock's hand and wrist. "What did you say.... In Danish... just now?" John said, it felt awkward asking to know. He didn't know why he needed to know Sherlock trusted him enough to tell him.  
Sherlock hesitated ....."I said I was sorry..... He said if I talked to you about it he'd hit me...."  
"Christ! What the Hell!" John was on his feet in seconds, furious.  
"Don't be stupid ... of course he didn't say that!"...Sherlock interrupted before John could say more. "He said ' let John take care of you for a bit.... I'll take my time making the tea.".... He's never hit me .... never."  
John's mouth twisted. "Now I feel like a fool," he said.  
Sherlock looked up as far as John's chest. " No.... but nobody listens to anything I'm saying , they all think they know what happened better than me .... I hoped, maybe, you would be ..... on my side.... more than anyone."  
" I am." John said. "Sherlock.... I only want to help."  
"Then stop thinking you know .... and try believing what I'm saying. Alan was kind....he is kind.... and he's always been kind.... kinder than anyone else was there..... I keep saying it but nobody hears me." Sherlock sounded defeated.

"I'm sorry," John said bleakly. "It's just bloody impossible to understand why he did nothing to help you...."  
"He did help me.... there's a difference...in the way he did his job and how everyone else did. He was kind in small ways, so Charles didn't see.... If I asked him for a cigarette he always bought me one at some stage in the day, he never just forgot. He'd bring me sweets sometimes... He never treated me like I was a wh... " Sherlock stopped on the brink of the word.  
"Like you're what?" John asked carefully. He knew Sherlock had been about to call himself a whore.  
"It doesn't matter," Sherlock said blankly.  
"Don't do that," John said. "Don't pretend that you aren't in pain when you are."  
"Why not? What difference is saying it going to make to anything that's happened?"  
"Because that's what you do.... you bottle it all up and turn it in on yourself and... God.... Sherlock, the only person who never asked for any of this to happen is you."  
"Why do people think that? Like talking is something special... like it can change what happened... Because some idiot told them its cathartic and once I do it I'll feel better?...Because I don't John. I don't feel better after.... it doesn't help. I feel over exposed and I hate it. I don't want to remember."  
John spoke slowly, making each word count. " I know you want to hide it... and you're good at that , you really are. You had us all fooled....But you do remember don't you? Even when you don't want to and you're trying not to? You can't keep the thoughts out? You can't stop remembering just because you want to forget?"  
Sherlock shook his head in helpless rejection of the truth.

"We almost lost you and none of us are ready for that to happen. We only just got you back." John's voice was full of emotion.  
Sherlock dragged in a breath.... " I don't mean to.... die.... I get so angry I can't stand it... at myself , at everything.... and then I've done it... I don't even know when, it's done. Everything hurts.... being me hurts.... I'm tired.... I want it to all stop. The pain... its like a reset... I stop and then I can start again."

John fought the urge to touch Sherlock's thin, white knuckled hand that was fisted tightly around it's own thumb. He wanted answers but none of the questions seemed safe to ask. "We didn't know but now we do. If that's the only good thing to come out of today I'd say that's something...."  
"My trying to slit my wrist is a positive?" Sherlock sounded unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry.  
"If it changes things...yeah.... That'd be a good way to see it I think." John said.  
"Did anyone ever tell you that you are certifiably crazy?" Sherlock looked up. His gaze flinched away from the warmth in John's brown eyes once .... then returned.  
"Oi... I'm not the one who just tried to off himself with an Edwardian stuffed bat." John said with a grin he knew must look desperate. " Sense of the theatrical or what?"  
Sherlock's spontaneous, ridiculously out of place, laughter was high and breathless.... hysterical with relief.

Greg watched Riddick's hand shaking as he filled the glass kettle and set it to boil.... A mere splash of milk into the bottom of three mugs and a teabag and the job was all but done. The Alpha had said barely a word since coming into the kitchen. Greg mouthed words silently at Mycroft over the table , behind Alan's back...."You take the tea ... I'll talk to him...."  
Mycroft looked at Riddick's tense back, gave a silent nod of agreement and waited.... choosing to speak just after Alan had poured the boiled water into each mug.... "Might I take the tea in for Sherlock?"  
Neither Greg nor Mycroft missed the unhappy sigh Alan gave. "Aye ... he's your brother isn't he, course you can...Take something chocolate in for him as well."  
"Take a kit-kat,"Greg said. "He likes those."  
"What on earth is a kit-kat?" Mycroft really had no idea and the name gave him no clues.  
Greg blinked ...."Chocolate and wafer Heaven in two fingered form."  
"Sherlock's new favourite snack" Riddick said gruffly.  
"I'll take two... One for John." Mycroft said.  
"Better make that four, he's a bit of a sweet tooth your brother ..." Greg suggested.  
" Don't faff about. Take the packet," Alan said. "He'll eat them all."  
Mycroft took the packet.......

Alone in the kitchen Greg watched Alan run hot water into a mug repeatedly without even looking down at what he was doing until steam was billowing above the sink and fogging the tiles.  
" Bit of a shock finding Sherlock like that...." Greg said quietly.  
"I've found him like that before.... a few times.... seen him do it too...on camera..." Alan said dully. "Eight months I had him at the cabin and he never once did this...."  
"Does he ever talk about any of it ?"  
Alan shook his head.... "Once....Not really."  
"Weber rang. I know he's sorry if anything he said today triggered this... It can't be easy being the person who has to keep bringing stuff like this up." Greg could relate, he'd seen women look at him when he turned up at their front doors with the worst news like they were begging him not to say the words he'd come to deliver.  
"I shouldn't have bought him back. If I lose him because of this...." Alan fell quiet.  
Greg wondered which kind of losing Alan meant.... "He loves you."  
Alan looked up bleakly. "Aye... but, I've loved and lost an Omega before." 

Mycroft's tap at the bedroom door was much like the man himself.... polite and well mannered, deceptively unobstrusive. "John.... may I sit with Sherlock for a while?"  
"Course... I'll go down and check on Mrs Hudson...." John stole a kit-kat from the tray in passing.  
Mycroft settled into the chair and watched Sherlock take three chocolate bars from the tray at once. "A diabetic old age awaits you Sherlock..." he said with mild reproof.  
Sherlock snapped a bar into two and held one chocolate covered stick out towards Mycroft, the absurd wadding around his wrist making the gesture unusually awkward.... " Live dangerously brother...?" he said.  
"Well in that case... I think I'll have both halves..." Mycroft took the chocolate Sherlock was offering and also plucked the other half of the bar up from Sherlock's lap....


	24. The Judas Goat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleksander and Sasha play a game.... Much later while the child sleeps, Magnussen and Alexei play a twisted game of their own ... and a secret is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is disturbing and some parts of it could trigger.... please be careful. It's also insanely long and proved impossible to edit ....so yeah...sorry about that!
> 
> The Judas goat is a goat that lives inside a slaughter house but is spared death... It walks ahead of other animals , betraying them into following it towards their own end without panic...
> 
> Blue.... Track is Loneliest Boy by Booka Shade with Craig Walker.

Magnussen took a small sip of expresso, enjoying its rich flavour, as he watched Aleksander play. The child had a pile of wooden jenga blocks set out upon the low table between the two couches.  
Alexei's Omega, Sasha, knelt the other side of the table from the Alpha boy, in contrast to Aleksander's bright golden hair with its slight curl at the ends, Sasha's heavy white blonde hair looked almost colourless in the afternoon sunlight .

Sasha avoided touching the child, participating in the game cautiously.  
The little boy concentrated on his construction, picking through the pile of wooden pieces, rejecting some peremptorily in favour of another, for no apparent reason.  
"Don't touch the child Sasha. Remember your place whore.... the boy is an innocent. Keep your soiled hands to yourself when you hand him anything." Alexei made sure to speak in Russian, knowing Aleksander didn't understand what was being said.  
Nevertheless the child looked up, the lucid blue eyes so like his mother's, brightly curious, before returning to his game.  
Sasha placed the wooden piece in his hand pointedly on the table top and slid it towards Aleksander instead of handing it to him as he had been doing.  
Alexei smiled, amused at the insignificant act of mute rebellion.

"What news of your straying bondmate?" Alexei was mindful of the child and kept his voice low.  
Charles reached for some caviar before replying. "He has visited a museum and the London Eye...like some common tourist on vacation. Of course I have surveillance footage. His hair has been shorn unattractively, his clothing is cheap and ill fitting but since I know the perfect body that lies beneath, it matters little what he wears.... I shall see him for myself this week."  
"Ah, the Court appearance of course.... The beautiful Sherlock will be in attendance ?"  
"He will." Charles answered calmly.

Alexei gave a provocative smile, his lean aristocratic face alive with a troublesome, avid interest....he saw Charles determination to show little visible reaction when Sherlock was mentioned as a challenge. " I wonder will he be foolhardy enough to raise his eyes to you in the Court."  
Charles mouth had set in a thin, pressed line but he gave a dismissive laugh at the absurdity of that idea. "He would be foolish to do so, unless he has entirely forgotten how to behave ."  
"You still intend to remind him?"  
"I do.... This time he will not forget the lessons taught him." 

Sasha had glanced up from underneath his heavy white blond fringe, as soon as he heard Charles laugh. He was startled to find Charles watching him and rapidly dropped his eyes back to the table.  
Aleksander tugged at the sleeve of the Omega's pale, linen jacket to get his attention . "I'm Alpha so I go first... you can play second."  
"Of course, second...." Never first. Not when playing with an Alpha child... "Very well darling, make your move." Sasha moved his arm away as soon as he could, conscious of Alexei's eyes upon him.  
"Make sure you lose the game, faded whore.." Alexei called out in Russian.

Aleksander crouched down, face level with the tower he'd built, deciding on which wooden brick he should remove first. He slid the piece he had selected out from the rest, with great care for a child of his age.  
Sasha made to take the easy option and moved to select a block from the very top tier.  
"That's a stupid move" Aleksander said, his young voice critical." Do you want to lose?"  
Sasha bit his tongue, he would have given up the game long ago were he not being watched. Alpha children were such brats! " I don't know how to play this game.... perhaps you could show me? "  
Aleksander took his time deciding for the Omega........

When the game was halfway through and the tower still standing Charles stood and made his way over to the table.  
"Will you try Fader?" The child asked hopefully.  
"After you take your turn." Charles watched as his son chose a piece from low on one side and removed it from the tower.  
Sasha felt Magnussen's dead eyes rest upon him briefly before they returned to the game.  
"It didn't fall." Aleksander said, his voice puzzled and a little disappointed, he'd been sure it would this time.  
Magnussen indulged his son with a rare smile. "When you have a puzzle like this, the strength and integrity of all depends on just one piece ....if you choose correctly and take that vital piece away.... the rest will collapse." As he spoke he removed a piece, the child held his breath then let out a sigh as the tower still stood. Magnussen's smile revealed the joke to his son.  
"Which piece Fader? Which one will make the whole fall down? You know don't you?" The child wanted to win.  
"Of course." Magnussen touched a single wooden piece with one finger tip and Aleksander pulled that one out .... in a second everything collapsed noisily to the table.  
"I knew you'd know the right one Fader!" The child said excitedly and scooped the scattered blocks towards himself to rebuild the tower again.

"Fatherhood suits you." Alexei raised an eyebrow sardonically as Charles rejoined him. "That had the feel of a homily Charles...."  
"Indeed....." Charles acknowledged, both Alpha aware that they were no longer discussing a mere game.  
"You plan on removing the 'right' piece then and collapsing the whole? I had begun to wonder if you planned to allow Sherlock his 'happy ever after' romance but I see now that his fairytale will have a less happy ending." Alexei watched Sasha closely as he spoke.  
" I intend to retrieve my property before matters that should remain private are made public in Court...." Magnussen didn't deny that Alexei was right.  
"Where do you intend to keep him when you retrieve him?" Alexei was curious . "The brother has considerable influence does he not? Should you wish to leave the country discretely , my own jet is at your disposal. You have only to say the word."

Charles glanced meaningfully towards the table where the Omega and child were sat, drawing Alexei's attention subtly to the quiet, concentrated stillness of Sasha.  
"Turn your attention back to the game, eaves dropping bitch, before I cut off more than just your balls. Your tongue is of little use to me, I only need a hole in your dull face to spend myself in." Alexei raised his voice, speaking again in the Russian only the child could not understand.  
Sasha moved his hands from the table to his lap.... concentrating hard on Aleksander as the child reassembled the tower methodically.

" Best discussed later....Speaking of needs..." Charles said calmly in perfect Russian, as though no threat of violence had been made. "We have yet to agree on the menu for tonight.... I thought the blond? Or is that a little young for your taste? "  
"The Brazilian ? He is young but ... blondes have lost all their appeal for me." Alexei gave Sasha's fair hair a dismissive glance. "My choice would be the Italian, a little soft bodied for your taste Charles, but that pouting lip would split so prettily.... before fitting around a cock...."  
Charles felt his own cock stir at the suggestion, suddenly recalling a vivid image of his own hard cock forced between Sherlock's bloodied lips. "Very well , the Italian boy."

Before the nights entertainment began Charles walked down the long corridor to visit his son.  
The child's bedroom had been transformed since Charles had purchased the penthouse. Along one wall was a hand painted mural of the London skyline. The child's unique bed topped a mini building in the shape of an aircraft hanger. To the right of the bed stood a control tower, almost as high as the room itself, that Aleksander could climb up into and slide down from like a helter skelter. Above the bed, jutting out of the wall by one double wing, flew a scaled down silver and red biplane. There was a rope and wooden rung ladder hanging down from the undercarriage that the child used to climb up into the cockpit.  
Aleksander was a hot sleeper, his hair already damp with sweat and his face flushed pink.  
Charles picked up the child's antique Stieff teddy bear and replaced it next to the softly glowing globe nightlight, switching the light off before leaving the room.  
"Aleksander is to remain in the nursery until 11 tomorrow, his breakfast will be bought in." Charles addressed the maid. "Why was a night light left on in his bedroom?"  
"He was reading at bedtime Sir." She knew better than to tell Mr Magnussen that his son still cried if he woke in the night, she felt sorry for the child.  
"Yet there was no book next to his bed. Lie to me again and you will be dismissed without references to make any future employment possible...such sympathy is misguided and inappropriate and I will not tolerate it again. The bedside light is to be turned off before you close the door. Aleksander needs to learn to sleep in the dark. He is no longer an infant and I not have him babied......."

In the adult playroom the shine of silver chains and the matt flatness of black, plaited leather whips displayed on the dark red wall were not the only points of interest. The art on display was explicitly sexual and brutally decadent...  
Sasha was on his knees, kept in place by a short black leash. It was attached to a spiked collar about his neck and kept his neck in its forced bent back position showing the stress upon his throat by the prominence of his adams apple when he swallowed repeatedly. The leather ran down the line of his spine, through the black leather and silver chrome cuffs that pulled his wrists tightly behind him and was clipped to ankle cuffs. He couldn't avoid looking at the boy on the platform bed but neither did he let his gaze dwell with any open sympathy. He knew better than to be caught caring.  
The holed ball gag had kept the boy's mouth open long past the stage at which he could still swallow.  
The mess covering the boy's face revealed him to have been well used, as had the terrified sobbing..... although his eyes were vacant and glassy now and his breathing heavy and laboured.... Sasha made no move to comfort the boy verbally as the noisy struggle to breathe slowed, became more slurred and finally stopped, leaving the Russian Omega all alone in the vile playroom.

Alone in Charles personal sitting room , Magnussen and Alexei talked freely. "He reached almost operatic volumes, before his mouth was stoppered like a suckling pig by the gag ." Alexei enjoyed the porcine analogy....the boy's abused flesh had looked pink in the red light, the lube making his skin appear greased... "Such shrill squealing !"  
" A pointless reaction, since he had already been told the room is soundproofed." Charles stared down into his glass of brandy as he spoke.  
Alexei laughed. "They can't all suffer as appealingly as your Sherlock could." He accepted a cuban cigar from Charles and ran it under his nose, inhaling the rich aroma. "Tell me , when you took Sherlock's virginity did he cry and beg or was he stubbornly pale and silent?"  
"A delicious mix of both....The idea of him in such intimate pain arouses you..." It wasn't a question... Charles knew well that Alexei shared his own sadistic streak.  
"I would be blind if it did not." Alexei waved a hand in the direction of the naked oil painting of Sherlock that hung upon the wall. " The boy is stunning, I'd expect no less from the Omega you selected to bond. Sasha is merely useful when no better hole is available... whereas Sherlock is young and still beautiful. Having seen him naked on the cock I confess to a desire to see him beg again...." Alexei admitted his vicarious interest readily enough. 

Charles was thoughtfully silent. " Perhaps we can strike a deal....The custody hearing requires me to appoint an Alpha chaperone to accompany Aleksander during visitation...if you would consider the role?"  
Alexei looked genuinely surprised. " Of course....You intend to allow him to see the child?"  
"I do....let Sherlock have this small victory....the child longs for his mother....'It is my wish to see the relationship of trust and maternal love reestablished between them'..." Charles practiced the lie he would soon tell before the Court.  
Alexei gave Charles a long, incredulous stare before chuckling. " I know you too well to suspect you of sentimentality. What really motivates you?"  
"The desire to see my family reunited and expanded...." Charles answered with a dark smile.

He crossed to the wall on which the painting of Sherlock hung and slid the canvas aside , revealing the white wall safe behind it. Opening it he took out a white packet and tossed it one handed to Alexei.  
Alexei set his cognac down to open the packet. He was surprised to find photos of Sherlock and a dark haired, Alpha he recognised ..." This is the thief himself, your man Riddick? I recognise the face. A dead man walking is he not? "  
Charles arm lay easily along the back of the soft couch but his hand was a clenched , hard fist...." Tell me what you see?"

Puzzled Alexei returned his attention to the photographs, looking through several before passing comment. " His face is incomparable... angelic .... The short hair gives him an added fragility does it not, although to lose the handhold of his hair is a shame.... The boy looks very weak, has he been unwell?" Alexei asked.  
" I suspect so." Charles answered, " he has not been seen in public for several days."

Further images were more intimate.... Riddick was crouched down before the seated boy, both arms hugging the Omega, his face pressed into Sherlock's body..... . "He dares paw at your Omega in public?" Alexei was appalled  
Charles made an impatient gesture of assent " The photographs were taken in Mycroft Holmes garden... they foolishly considered themselves alone and unobserved. "  
Alexei scoffed at that idea then stopped abruptly.... In the final photos... Riddick had smoothed the Omega's baggy clothes into the changed shape of his body and was pressing kiss after kiss upon the Omega's lower belly , caressing the edges of its softly swelling rise with gently cupped hands.  
Alexei knew instantly what that proprietary gesture meant... "Sherlock is with child by this common dog? I'd kill them both!" he said with open disgust."How can you suffer this open insolence!"  
Charles shook his head , chiding Alexei for his impatience. "The man dared to breed my own Omega...this usurper...this common mongrel.... who stole from me what is mine by law and now plants his own filthy seed inside the mother of my only son? Death can only come once, for it to happen now would be too easy...." Charles spoke in a low growl.  
"Then.... what is your plan? " Alexei knew Charles spent countless hours plotting his revenge.  
"Aleksander pines for his mother.... with a little behind the scenes manipulation the Court can be persuaded to see his need. The child already doubts his mother loves him, he will not be easily persuaded otherwise.... Naturally Sherlock will look for ways to win him back.... Aleksander can be coached in his demands, a trip to the park or outside into the street, however brief is all I need...The child will be my Judas goat....bringing Sherlock closer to me, one traitorous step at a time until he and the bastard he carries are within my reach ...."  



	25. Where the Devil Don't Go I'll Make My Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life......and an 'almost' revelation.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a bit of fluff!
> 
> Nowt....nothing.  
> Mebbe....maybe.  
> A plagued man....bothered constantly.....
> 
> Trigger....brief gory description....nothing too bad.
> 
> The track Sherlock and Riddick dance to is Where the Devil Don't Go by Elle King.....

Aric Weber hadn't called to 221b in the daytime often. It was an unlikely place to find an Elite Omega who came from one of England's oldest, most high ranking Alpha families. The house itself was almost nondescript with its black front door, faded stucco and dark London brick. The street outside was surprisingly busy, even at this hour of the morning, as tourists headed up Baker Street to Madame Tussaud's at the top of the long street and there was a constant stream of noisy traffic.  
Frau Hudson, the elderly lady who had answered the front door to him, had had an elegantly colourful style and faintly powdery skin. The well manicured fingers that had clutched at his sleeve before he could set foot on the staircase had come as a surprise, as had the determined motherly protection...."Now I know you're only doing your job but that boy has been to Hell and back and he is hanging on by a thread.... so I'll ask you to be gentle with him or you'll answer to me Mr Weber."

The door to Sherlock's first floor flat was wide open, sunlight flooding the landing.... music blaring out from inside and the sound of breathless laughter.  
"O bloody Hell.. I went in wrong!" An Alpha's flustered voice.  
"Turn more! A little back or we'll bump knees..." Sherlock's voice, carefree and young . "Actually don't think..... just move...."  
"Sod it...nearly lost your fingers ... " Riddick's voice; full of honest laughter.  
"That's it...c'mon Alan ....faster.....Yes ...!"  
A relieved Aric found himself confronted with the sight of Alpha and Omega jiving in the middle of the sitting room with the rug rolled back..... Riddick's hand on the left side of Sherlock's body, holding on loosely and Sherlock's bandaged hand on the Alpha's shoulder.  
He was sorry to see Sherlock's happy, smiling face fall when the Omega saw him........

"I made coffee...First time ever." Sherlock said doubtfully. "It looks strange... not entirely sure why."  
"Thank you... I'm sure it will be fine." Weber said, unpacking his paperwork and setting it out on the table.  
Alan couldn't help it.... he gave a sneaky look down into Aric's mug as the lad set it down.... unstirred, instant coffee grains floated on the milky surface like little turds. He had to hide his fond smile....

"Aleksander's interview has of course been prerecorded to avoid upsetting him. I was permitted to leave questions to be put to him during that interview, as were Magnussen's own legal team."  
"Did you tell him what I wanted you to say?" Sherlock's voice was very quiet.  
"Yes.... but as you know due to the disclosure we signed I cannot discuss that with you before hand....We must hope all this reactions are favourable." Weber wished he could tell the Omega of the child's reaction. He'd advised Sherlock against asking it but the Omega refused to reconsider... stubbornly insistent.

"You're worried Magnussen will have shit talked Sherlock to the child?" Riddick spoke up unexpectedly, having remained silently watchful before .  
"I am. It would be a natural progression given the man's vindictive character." Weber said placidly as he set out the workings of a pipe, getting ready to light up.  
Sherlock shook his head at Riddick desperately while the other Alpha was distracted. Unborn babies and second hand tobacco smoke wasn't a good idea but Alan saying so would reveal everything. "Won't the judges see if Charles has turned him against me? He's just a little boy."

Weber heard the genuine sadness in the Omega's voice. "Parental alienation can be difficult to spot. Typically such children can be fiercely adamant in their condemation of the Omega parent and their support of the Alpha father. It can appear very convincing to an untrained eye."  
Sherlock gave a weary sigh.  
"That little boy needs you Sherlock....he always did..." Alan said fiercely.  
"I hope he still does.... I just want to love him...." Sherlock's voice was young and full of emotion.  
"You are his mother.... he has an emotional connection for you..... We lose nothing by trying to convince a Court of that maternal truth." Aric said placidly. "Each judge had his own Omega mother.... who knows, memories may tug on their heartstrings...."  
"Not sure any of those Elite fuckers have fucking heartstrings.... more like piano wire they twist around round your sodding throat till they choke you ." Alan said descriptively.

John was in a hurry..... starting talking as soon as he was through the open door. " I bought you some frozen fruit and low fat yoghurt , you can make smoothies.... Just throw it all in and blend it. Text me if you need to know how...ok?"  
"Want to stay for lunch John? Sherlock's making beef stir fry?"  
John watched Sherlock chopping vegetables into unequal pieces and found himself holding his breath as the huge knife sliced through the finger sized carrot next to Sherlock's thin knuckle with ease...... " Yeah , why not," he said, knowing his stomach would hate him for it later.........  
The smile Sherlock gave him was beautiful.....

"Sherlock.... summat's burning lad!"  
"I think its the jasmine rice...Is it meant to be this ..... solid...?" Sherlock asked innocently.  
"Cup of rice to two cups of water... boiing water till the rice is in then turn it down to a simmer..." Alan checked the recipe.  
"Oh..... I thought it was the other way around, that explains where the water disappeared too...." Sherlock said....  
"Mebbe if we just eat the top layer lad... less burnt" Riddick said helpfully.  
John found himself grinning. He really didn't envy Alan's job of eating Sherlock's every culinary disaster.....

Mycroft made time for Sherlock in between a debriefing with MI5 and a meeting with the Prime Minister and a hasty takeaway coffee on a park bench with Gregory Lestrade....  
Sherlock was sitting at his microscope, poring over slides with his safety glasses on top of his head.  
"Brother mine....Apologies , I can't stay long. Lunch at Downing Street ran late. No need to tell me how your day has progressed ...I can see it went well." Mycroft said confidently as he leant his umbrella against the wall... immaculate in his pale grey suit.  
Sherlock looked up....."You've been snogging.... definitely had your tongue in someone's mouth..." he said succinctly, his blue eyes wide and demurely lashed.  
" Sherlock....!" Mycroft spluttered like a cat that had made a swipe as a goldfish swam by, only to find itself fully in the ornamental pond....  
"It'd better be Greg... Please tell me it wasn't the Prime Minister?" Sherlock said with an angelic smile.........

"Sherlock Holmes.... what have you done to my Ikea worktop young man?" Martha wiped uselessly at the latest damage. "There are so many saucepan burns it looks like crop circles!"  
"It was Alan ....." Sherlock lied innocently.....  
"Alan Riddick..... what in Heaven's name have you done to my kitchen? That worktop was meant to be heat proof!" Martha's voice reached new strident heights of outrage......  
" Me...? Jesus H Christ..... can an Alpha be any more ruddy henpecked? " Alan's denial was loud and colourfully expressed....... "What about your worktop now woman? I've done nothing!"  
"I'll give you henpecked!" Martha said fiercely swatting at the man with a wet tea towel to Sherlock's delight.............. 

Greg Lesrade had had a long day.... the body of an Omega boy , barely 16 had been found in the Thames near Greenwich. A tourist there to see the Cutty Sark , tea clipper, had spotted the body bobbing up and down gassily on the tide.  
There was evidence of sexual trauma but Greg knew a lot of the DNA would have been washed away in the river . The Omega's face was a bloody pulp, his finger tips and any filled teeth had all been removed. All identifying skin marks had been sliced cleanly out with a knife. Forensic had no leads yet and for the first time Greg wished he could show Sherlock the post mortem and the crime scene and see what the Omega could tell him.  
It was possible the victim would never be identified. Maybe Sherlock could tell him something from the blood splattered t-shirt and underwear the boy had been wearing....Worth a try. 

Alan was sat on the couch reading the paper, Sherlock had his microscope on the coffee table.  
"Go on....I only need a few....Please?" Sherlock said with a manipulative, saccharine sweetness to his voice that made Alan want to laugh but Heaven help him if he encouraged the teen.  
"I'm a plagued man...." Riddick said with grumpy resignation...."Go on then...."  
Sherlock straddled the Alpha's thighs in one quick move as Alan stared up at him, head resting back against the couch cushions.  
Riddick's hands moved to the Omega's arse to support him.... "I'm a sucker for you..." Alan said matter of factly and shook his head as though he couldn't quite believe it himself.

Sherlock leant forward and pushed the long fingers of both hands deep into Riddick's hair, stroking the Alpha's scalp tenderly.....his face so close to Riddick that his lips almost brushed the Alpha's skin as he spoke.... "You have millions to spare ," he said teasingly.  
"Yeah...? Aye, well those hairs you want to rip out my scalp may be the ones that make all the difference to my comb over when I'm old and balding...." Alan was looking up at Sherlock devotedly.  
"Nobody should have a comb over....you can thank me for saving you from that...." Sherlock licked his lips and waited till Alan's eyes dropped to his damp mouth before he made a sudden move with the fingers of one hand and yanked some hair out of Alan's head.  
"Little sadist...." Alan said lovingly.

The Omega planted a kiss on the area before yanking out more hair from varying locations on Alan's scalp as the Alpha sat stoic and silent.....  
"Beard growth....results can differ...." Sherlock said , layering kisses over Riddick's face as he slid his hand under Alan's chin and tugged hard.  
"Ruddy Hell lad...." Riddick muttered as Sherlock pushed his head backwards so he could see.... "You're deadly when you've nowt to do."

Sherlock leant up onto his knees over Alan and snaked his hand down between both their bodies. Smiling at Alan's sharp inhale it reached the large bulge of his cock and moved to the zipper, pulling it down..... Riddick's strong fingers massaged the taut muscle of Sherlock's arse.  
"Let me .... " The Omega gave a perfect tranquil sigh and let his lips brush Alan's skin, tracing slowly towards the Alpha's mouth with kiss after kiss, as his fingers slid into the open waistband of Riddick's jeans and traced Alan's rapidly hardening cock through his boxer briefs, fingers slipping up to to slide inside...fingertips just reaching the short dark hair above Alan's cock ....  
"Oh no you bloody don't ," Alan said with a incredulous laugh. " No way you're yanking my pubic hair out by the roots....."  
"I'll do it so fast.... You won't even feel it...." Sherlock didn't deny that was the plan.......  
"Like Hell I won't..." Riddick gave a disbelieving chuckle, "You yank a handful of hair out of there and trust me , I'll feel it!"

Greg Lestrade had just reached the door....When he saw Sherlock and Alan he stepped back onto the landing and retreated tactfully downstairs, unseen and unheard.  
Alan's hands were on Sherlock's slim hips... sliding round to cup and stroke the Omega's firm bump lovingly as he spoke to his unborn child inside Sherlock's belly..... "Maybe I should be hoping you are an Alpha ... your crazy mother's already more Omega than I can handle.... I won't stand a snowball in Hells chance with two of you.".


	26. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is feeling guilty and pushes himself to initiate and put things right. Its never just that simple ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should start by saying sorry , I try to always update weekly but it hasn't been possible for me to be online this last week as I was in hospital.  
> If you are one of the readers who took the time to leave me a message about the story then I want to say a big thank you, it was really a good thing to find them all when I logged in today and I appreciate it !
> 
> Trigger warning... the sexual contact in this update may trigger as some parts of it are difficult even though its fully consensual. Sherlock has a degree of disassociation which is still unrecognised which complicates things more than once. The verbal and physical clues he gives don't always match the inner dialogue in his own head.  
> This is something I have personal experience of.
> 
> Neep.... Yorkshire word for a turnip.
> 
> Blue...the track is Salt by Eivør.

The bedroom door was closed.  
If it was solely his decision Sherlock would never shut the door to any room he was in, it bought back too many memories he wished he could forget, but even he saw the need for extra privacy and prudence now.... as he carefully eased the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt over his heavily bandaged wrist and hand.  
"Need some help lad?"  
Guilt squirmed uneasily in Sherlock's belly at the devoted care in the Alpha's voice. He'd done this to himself, he didn't deserve Alan's sympathy.... "It's ok. I can do it."

If anybody saw him now they could'nt fail to notice he was carrying a child...there was a distinctive pregnant shape to his body, even if the bagginess of the garment still hid it when he was dressed. Underneath his increasingly compromised t-shirt, a firm small bump rose halfway up to his belly button and the elastic waistband on the pale grey pj bottoms he was wearing was so tightly stretched it left red marks on his pale skin. When he stood up too fast or walked, it felt like his body was strangely unbalanced and his joints felt fluid and a little too loose. He'd had low backache twice.

According to the book the baby could weigh as much as 5 ozs and was begining to develop real bones instead of cartilege.... it was hard to think of it as a mini person, who'd be called Billy one day, especially as Alan had nicnamed it Neep ever since he found out 5ozs was the same weight as a turnip .... A turnip was a neep. There seemed to be very few words that Yorkshiremen didn't have another way of saying. Sherlock wasn't sure if he should be worried that he knew what most of those phrases meant now, even the craziest ones that Alan only ever said to watch Sherlock laugh.  
Neep.... That name would have to change in a week, the book said the baby was growing fast and by then he/she would be the size of a pepper. When the baby moved Sherlock could feel it.... fluid whole body movements that were impossible to predict.

Alan said he couldn't feel any movements yet in a voice that told Sherlock he was longing for it to happen. His broad, capable hands wrapped over Sherlock's covered bump and slid underneath Sherlock's clothes every chance he got; trying to feel a kick but, whenever he did it, the movements stopped and settled down. It made Sherlock even surer that the baby was Omega because Alan's touch felt so warm and loving that Sherlock knew if he was a unborn Omega baby he'd give up moving and just lay underneath the Alpha's palm like it was a heat lamp too.

The pregnancy hormones were changing Sherlock in more than the most obvious ways too. He was ridiculously emotional... he'd cried at a nature documentary on tv earlier in the night; when a hyena had attacked a newly born gazelle despite the mother trying hard to distract it away, risking her own life time and time again. It was an absurd, ridiculous over reaction..... nature was red in tooth and claw, the strongest preyed on anyone younger or weaker and took what they wanted , Sherlock knew that was how the world worked but rationalising it made no difference and he'd wiped away tear after tear .  
The sight of the tiny, broken body hanging limp had been too much.... he'd given a single stricken sob and every Alpha in the room had heard it.  
Mycroft and John couldn't have looked at him with anymore startled surprise if he'd suddenly grown another head on his shoulders.... Mycroft's mouth open in the only truly astonished gape Sherlock had ever seen on his older brothers face, staring as Sherlock wiped ineffectually at his own wet eyes and cheekbones, before recovering enough to pass Sherlock his own fine linen hanckerchief.

While Mycroft stared astounded and speechless, John had changed the channel to a shopping network and made tea with biscuits.  
Alan had simply slung an arm round Sherlock's heaving shoulders and acted as though sobbing hopelessly during a BBC nature documentary about African wildlife was completely normal for the Omega.  
Maybe it was normal behaviour for a pregnant Omega but just thinking about it made Sherlock blush. The word... pathetic.... sprang to mind.

Later Sherlock stood quietly, alerted by the worried concern in Mycroft's familiar voice and overheard John and Mycroft talking about him in the kitchen... only odd disjointed words not whole sentences, as the noisy washing machine cranked into spin cycle..... but it was enough... "After everything....not surprising... lot of stress .... mood swings .... part of that....therapist.... the guy I recomended...good."  
A therapist?  
Could he say no.... refuse? Doubtful...  
Shit...really, just fucking wonderful.... more useless , pointless , endless talking ..... more probing and more digging until all his worst secrets were pulled out from the marrow of his bones and laid out in black oozing piles for everybody to see.  
Sherlock felt like rounding the corner and yelling ' fuck off , I'm not going!" .... they really would think he'd gone mad then... but in the end all he did was lay facing the wall on the couch pretending he was asleep and wishing he was .  
Alan would never have pushed this on him.

Midnight.  
Riddick was sat on the edge of the bed in boxer briefs. Sherlock let himself watch the Alpha's six pack of delinated muscles move under his tanned skin as he pulled his t- shirt up over his head and tossed it onto the bed behind him.  
Sherlock found the play of muscles beneath the Alpha's skin fascinating but much as he liked looking, tonight he wanted them to do more than just look and touch.  
Any Alpha needed more than just touching or sucking or rubbing his cock on an Omega.... it was weeks past the safe date he'd been told and Charles wouldn't have even waited that long before taking what he wanted. Alan had been more than patient. If they left it any longer it wouldn't get any easier and if it hurt it was no more than Sherlock deserved after everything he'd done.  
Sherlock had seen Alan's face , heard the upset in the Alpha's voice , knew the damage just the thought of losing him had done to Alan. If they had penetrative sex it'd help, it had to, even though just thinking about doing 'that' still made Sherlock feel queasily sick and unsure.

Riddick made no comment when Sherlock reached out and picked his discarded t-shirt up.... it had become their nightly routine months ago in the cabin.... Alan taking the t-shirt he'd worn off and Sherlock putting it on right after the Alpha dropped it on the bed. The Omega liked to sleep with the Alpha's scent all round him and Alan had never said he minded. Nevertheless Sherlock froze guility in the act of stealing the Alpha's discarded t-shirt when Riddick spoke.  
"Let me see you... without the t-shirt?" Riddick asked for it directly, which Sherlock knew meant he really wanted it.  
Sherlock looked helplessly down at the obvious swelling of his belly under his own stretched t-shirt and mutely up at Riddick's face. Surely not, why would Alan want that?  
"You always cover up so fast... I've not seen you naked in a while." Alan sounded wistful.  
Sherlock stayed very still , crosslegged on the bed in just his too small t-shirt and stretched pj bottoms, arms full of Alan's discarded t-shirt blocking over his body protectively. He'd done enough wrong things today, hurt the people who cared about him, hurt Alan.... "Ok." 

"Ah lad.. don't look so worried.... " Alan's voice was confused but kind and he'd glanced at Sherlock's twitching fingers twice within four seconds which indicated a growing level of concern.  
Sherlock took a lot of precise care over the folding of Riddick's t-shirt before hiding it under his pillow .... he knew Alan wouldn't understand, because why would an Alpha know how being pregnant made you feel ugly, but he said it anyway. He knew he could have said he didn't want to be seen but he didn't say it because he knew he'd always do anything for Alan, after everything Alan had done for him, so in the end all he said was an appologetic..... "I look fat. "  
"You look pregnant and you look beautiful. At least I think you do... if I could just get a proper look at you. I'd have a better chance of getting a good look at the Archbishop of Canterbury naked and I've not so much as set eyes on him before."  
It was an absurd comparision..... logic didn't even apply. Sherlock's hands moved hesitantly as he took off his own t-shirt and sat with his pregnant belly awkwardly exposed " I didn't know you liked him," Sherlock said, knowing it was all nonsense but saying it anyway to distract himself as he knelt up on the bed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he concentrated on popping the button at the waist of his pj's open and slid them reluctantly down his bare thighs.  
This is fine... remember who you are with... don't be an idiot.  
It was hard to sit still and let himself be seen without wanting to move and find something to cover up with, in the end Sherlock couldn't quite do it.... he kept his own t-shirt akwardly in his hands, covering his lap and hiding part of his belly; concentrating hard on the inked sheep on Riddick's body.  
Alan's eyes were fixed on Sherlock's nervous hands and white knuckles. "Oh aye, it was a close run thing between you and him. Nowt sexier than a 50 year old man in a long black robe with more hair growing out his ears than was ever on his head."  
Sherlock threw his own balled up t-shirt at Alan's preposterous smirking face. Didn't think first... should have.... it left him bare, changed body exposed.

Silence.... Alan wasn't saying anything. Sherlock couldn't make himself look up to see his eyes.  
He desperately wanted to hunch away and cover up. This had been a mistake, letting Alan see him naked, his body distorted like this.... it was humiliating. The Omega fumbled blindly under the pillow for clothing, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "I tried to tell you... I look weird... grotesque."  
" What? No.... Sherlock....no!" Riddick caught at his arm, holding firm without pressure or pulling, his voice flooded with emotion. " I think you're beautiful.... Stop it!"  
Sherlock froze immediately as though it was an order.  
Alan stared down at his hand above Sherlock's wrist before sharply correcting himself and taking his hand away. "Sorry," his voice was ragged."If you don't want me to see you.... it's your body Sherlock. You don't have to show me...." The Alpha stopped talking, then added, in a changed voice ...." How about you put my t-shirt on and we'll just have a cuddle lad , shall we?"

Sherlock threw himself across the bed and caught Alan round the neck with both arms.  
Arms wrapped him round and held on." Whoa ....slow down... don't move too fast , you'll hurt yourself" Riddick said, the loving care in his voice obvious.  
"I'm sorry... You can see.... of course you can see, it's your baby too." Sherlock said fiercely in between a flurry of kisses more like an attack than love and he knew it was the right thing to say by the way the Alpha's arms pulled him in closer, as Riddick rolled them both over and down to the bed, his firm mouth on Sherlock's soft, sweet lips.

"Nothing smells better than you do.... better than fresh baked bread at teatime, you are...." Riddick said gently, his voice saturated with a lazy desire. The Alpha was leaning over him.... nosing at Sherlock's hairline, kissing his way down the Omega's tantalising , pale neck and inhaling devotedly, as though Sherlock was the best thing he'd ever scented.  
It wasn't possible to lay flat on top of Alan anymore.... try and it felt like squashing a water balloon inside of his lower body, too much unsettling pressure but this.... laying on their sides, close as they could get, with Alan's firm, muscled thigh slid in between both of Sherlock's, just hard enough to provide pressure under the Omega's cock every time Sherlock slid against him.... was just as good. It didn't matter that he was naked, it didn't matter that Alan had to feel the swollen shape of Sherlock's belly pressing against his own muscular body.... none of it mattered, because Alan was covering his face and mouth with kisses and saying...."That's the way my lovely, lovely lad.... You're a perfect little beauty... a white rose.... that's what you are love."

Love.... Sherlock knew from every tell tale, giveaway sign he saw that Alan loved him.... there was a pulse in Alan's throat told all the Alpha's secrets. Sherlock pressed his lips to it and kept them there just to feel the thumping, regular beat of Alan's heart. Everytime Sherlock glanced up , Alan's blue eyes were already looking down at him.... the heated focus in them making Sherlock blush and lower his gaze, submissive and flustered but they drew him back to look again like a magnet and everytime he did Alan was still staring down at him until finally, Sherlock only had to open his mouth and the truth came spilling out... "I love you Alan... I love you."  
Riddick answered calmly "I know .... I love you lad, course I know. C'mere to me, beautiful." and stole his breath away with kiss after deep kiss......

"Want to roll over and I'll do your neck properly love?"  
_God yes _...."Please...." The soothing hand cupping the nape of his neck already felt incredible. Sherlock loved everything about this one single act, laid close, sheltered under Riddick's arm, with the Alpha's palm caressing the edges of Sherlock's baby bump.__  
The heat of Alan's breath ghosting over his skin made Sherlock tremble in anticipation but instead of a lick the Alpha's mouth covered the raised, surpisingly fragile bones beneath the tattered skin of his bond bite and he gave a suck that felt like it ran all the way down Sherlock's spine to his toes.  
Riddick's hot mouth was pressed so hard into the nape of the Omega's neck that Sherlock felt the Alpha's rumbling pleasure vibrating in the bones and his thighs fell apart at the sound instinctively as Riddick caressed his ribs with firm hands. "You like that? Don't you? Yeah you do.... You like that a lot..."  
Alan's hands moved to his hips and from there to his pale, slim cock and the Omega couldn't help the helpless moans of pure pleasure he gave with Alan's every ryhthmic full mouthed suck or the way Sherlock's own slim hips hitched foward and back in response to the pressure of the Alpha's hand round his shaft. It felt so good.  
" That feel good? I know....that's it lad..... Good boy.... Fuck my hand ...fuck against it for me... That's it love....yeah, just like that...."  
Sherlock's hips thrust erratically as he panted through perfect lips and leant his head back to rest on Riddick's shoulder , the heat of Alan's muttered words warmly humid against his ear.

____

"Come on to me beautiful.... over you come. You know what I want."  
Urged over, rolling onto his back towards Alan with the Alpha touching his body and guiding him into place, Sherlock knew what was coming next and shocked himself with how much he wanted the Alpha's mouth round him. There was a surreally bewildered moment while he whined needily "Alan .... please ..... Oh God, forget the pillows ... please..." as Riddick pushed pillows under Sherlock's neck, shoulders and hips to some pre-arranged comfort and support plan that Sherlock knew nothing about.  
"There you go ... Lean back on the pillows.... I've got you." The Alpha eased Sherlock's legs out wide with his knees bent, kissed the top of Sherlock's foot once and lowered his head between the Omega's thighs. His hands slid underneath to Sherlock's tautly muscled arse to knead and massage flesh apart and Sherlock drew in a fast shaky breath, suddenly anxious....  
Riddick gave one long wet lick up the shaft, mouth closing round the head of Sherlock's cock and the Omega made a sudden nervous sound, feeling exposed....."Sshh.... hush.... its only me love...I'll take care of you .... I know what you need ," Alan promised before his mouth began to slide.

Wide strong hands under his thighs , pulling him carefully into position.... Oh God! .... Sherlock arched up against the engulfing hand cupping his cock and balls up out the way as Alan's tongue and his wet, open, sucking mouth did things to the flushed pink, tender skin of Sherlock's perineum that made Sherlock writhe and gasp and grab handfuls of pillow above his head helplessly. The first wet, slow sweep of Alan's tongue against the tightly furled entrance of Sherlock's body had the Omega panting and begging for more.... Alan slid both palms under the curve of Sherlock's arse and raised the Omega up for his tongue.... 

Sherlock was hot and panting , blinded with aching need and when Alan took his mouth away he almost begged like a whore for it back but the Alpha came up the bed to kiss him, working his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, his strong body bare against Sherlock's and the Omega pushed into the kiss hungry for more and hooked his legs around the back of Alan's thighs , feet arching.  
He reached blindly down for the Alpha's cock without asking... feeling the heavy weight and solid length of it harden even more in his palm.... and all it took was three long fingered, twisting strokes, up and over the head, teasing over the retracted foreskin to get Alan thrusting against his grasp and growling in the smokey aroused rumble that made Sherlock shiver and close his eyes.  
"Ahh, that's good....Fuck... Sherlock, that's good." Muttered words.... Alan fought with himself to stay as still as he could as Sherlock touched him, the Omega's thin wrist rubbing against the solidity of Alan's cock.

Sherlock pushed insistently at Riddick's hipbones until the Alpha finally realised what was needed and flipped over onto his back, cock straining against his flat stomach.  
Sherlock slid down and mouthed at the loose skin of the Alpha's heavy balls, cock in his hand as Riddick's hips bucked helplessly. "Stay still...." he warned.  
Alan's next aborted thrust stuttered as he strugggled to hold it back and Sherlock took hold of his cock and squeezed it hard as his tongue pushed back against smooth, slitted skin to taste .....  
"O Christ...!" Alan said weakly.

" Lube....?" Sherlock said it on a gasp.... mouth off , hand still moving , eyes on Alan's leaking cock.  
" Jacket." Alan grunted the word out.  
Other side of the bedroom .... many frustrating pockets..."Too far".... may as well as be on the moon....  
Sherlock didn't want to let go of Alan's solid cock.  
"Oh fuck..... just.... suck it lad ....spit on it .... get me wet.... " Alan begged hoarsely, his hips surging up as the Omega squeezed his cock hard to remind him.  
"Stay still...." Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed out slow twice to clear the feverish heat from his own mind before pinning Alan's hips back to the bed with one thin bandaged arm and leaning all his weight down.  
He did it all exactly as he was asked, until Alan was wet cocked and growling throatily, saying "Fuck....Fuck.... Sherlock...." over and over as though no other word existed for him to remember.

Broad Alpha fingers caressing his tender scalp, blindly reaching for the back of his head as Sherlock's head moved .  
"No....don't!" Fear flaring.  
"Sorry...." Alan snatched his hand away fast, then put his palm to Sherlock's face; fingers stroking the Omega's cheekbone appologetically as he did so. "Sorry...."  
Above Sherlock's curled tongue, against his soft palate the Alpha's heavy cock throbbed in his wet mouth.  
Sherlock lay very still .... its ok , its ok ,he wasn't pushing your head down.... and listened to Alan breathe, checking the Alpha still had the self control to take more. "Your mine....Your cock's mine," Sherlock said and rubbed his full lips over Alan's cock head , pushing deliberately past the urge to gag , going as far down as he could go.  
"O fuckin Christ," Alan begged inarticulately.... and Sherlock pulled back and looked up , let his mouth be seen with the head of Riddick's thick cock pushing against pink , suck swollen lips and licked him quite deliberately; tongue slow and teasing.  
"Fuck....lad....please" Riddick grunted , stricken , as the Omega slid his mouth round and down. "I have to ....lad ....I can't.... I'm going to ..."  
"No... You're not allowed.... Don't." Sherlock said fiercely and Alan growled in response , guttural and oddly vulnerable, until finally Sherlock moved his arm so the Alpha could thrust up into his mouth and Alan groaned with relief even as his hips fucked up again.... 

Sherlock slid one slim leg over Alan's muscled legs and sat up over him, pushing against the man with both hands and all of his body weight, forcing as much of his slim weight down as he could so Riddick wouldn't move.  
Alan caught hold round his arse and stroked with both hands , easing the firm flesh apart. Sherlock gasped and bent foward, "I want.... " Sherlock sighed as the Alpha's fingers slid over his perineum.  
"What...? Tell me.... I'll give it you.... anything you want." Alan ground the words out.  
Sherlock couldn't think in words. Heightened sensitivity firing neurons that detonated all the words he wanted to say one by one and left him moaning before he had the right one's back and ordered to make sense. "I want... You... inside me."  
Shit! That was sobering.... They hadn't in so long.... It hadn't gone the best then.... still Alan dragged in a sharp breath as desire made his cock thicken...."You sure?"  
" Yes...." Not really.... "Lube...?" It was an answer in itself.  
"I'll get it." The speed at which Alan got up off the bed to find it almost made Sherlock laugh out loud.  
A naked, painfully hard Alan gave up looking in seconds and threw the coat at the bed where Sherlock unzipped pockets furiously  
"Where....which pocket? God....It's not here!"  
Alan cursed his own stupidity."Fuck I know it's there ... it has to be."  
Sherlock unzipped every pocket and shook the contents violently out. .....  
Pen...pen lid...housekeys...tissues...tickets....mints.....receipts....wallet.... credit card....coins .... locker key....gym membership card...house keys for Finland.... underground map....bus tickets...tube tickets.....parking tickets..... reward card... car keys for Finland... locker keys.... protein bar....  
"Not here!" Sherlock threw the jacket over to get at the inside pockets and felt something .... Secret sleeve pocket.... Lube. Unopened.... unscented....Sherlock picked it up as carefully as he would dynamite.....

_Talk to me Alan..... say something. _Knots of fear in his belly.__  
"Good lad." _Keep talking... don't go quiet. Give him a little reassurance. _"You ok there? Need another pillow?"__  
"It's fine."  
"Want to be on top of me?"  
"No!" On display . Not ever.  
"On your side ? That way its less deep."  
_God no....Paris heat suite ....Charles behind him...pain... ___  
"Your back? Book says that's good, long as I stay off your belly."  
_No....no....no.... Not that... Study.... looking up at a ring of faces.... pinned on his back..._  
Delete ....delete.... DELETE. __  
"Alright love... lets.... This way so.... like before.... you liked that."  
Ever the optimist....

__

_____ _

_____ _

This way.... turned out to mean kneeling forward , pillows banked up , soft against his belly and against his cock until Alan pulled it back through his spread legs and sucked it.... 

Stomach clenching.... " Why do I have all these pillows...?" I need to know.... just a fact.... any fact....Tell me something.... Alan, please....  
Alan behind him.... kissing skin, warm wide spread hands stroking his back and sides, rubbing slow over his hips.... "It's in the book... takes the baby pressure off your back ... easier... for you."  
Nobody ever ..... Charles never..... Nobody ever cared to make it easier before. "It helps."

____

Stronger legs inside his own... edging him wider.  
"Alan...." Fearful.  
"Hush love.... I'll not hurt you. Its all ok.... It's only love."  
Tongue on tailbone... lower.....  
Sherlock moaned...  
Slick sound of lube....  
Wet slippery fingers... Slow push. Slow twist, Slow pull.  
Stretched lubed skin.  
"Alan....?" Tell me you're there for me....  
"Thats it... relax a bit more there for me lad....That's it...Good boy...." 

Slicking sounds.  
Cold sweaty dread....  
"I've got you... Here we go..."  
PRESSURE.  
Pain....  
"Good lad... good lad.... Relax your body.... Let me in..."

Alkali metals....  
Hydrogen....Lithuim...Sodium...Potassium.....Rudidium..  
Ahhh!... Caesium.... Fra....Fran.....Francium....FUCK....FUCK!  
CAN'T.... "Alan..."  
"Alright lad....?" Panting. "Sherlock?"  
"Alan...." O GOD! Breathe.  
Alan looked down saw his own cock in Sherlock's arse and couldn't look away. " It's all in .... " he said , awed.  
"I know that!.... Do something... its fucking huge!" Gritted teeth. _O God why did he have to be the Omega in this! ___  
Alan gave a snort of genuine, startled laughter...."Snarky little bugger .... Huge eh? " He sounded happily proud.  
Sherlock panted .... fucking hurts...."You... try.... it...."  
" No bloody way lad!" Besotted..... Pulling back for more lube.... First thrust. Sherlock moaned sharply....."This'll ease it ... " Second thrust..." Relax your hole love...." Third.... fourth....fifth...sixth thrusts...."Fuck.... you're tight... bring your arse back .... That's the way" Seven... eight.... nine...ten... thrusts..... "Look at you taking my cock... God, Sherlock you feel so good...."  
Sherlock gave a loud shaken moan.  
Alan leant over , face close to Sherlock's, body covering the smaller Omega .... drove his hips in close and fucked Sherlock open with three hard thrusts... 

____

Sherlock gripped onto the pillows and hid his face, his sharp helpless cries driving Alan mad with possessive drive.  
Riddick shifted the angle and thrust again. Hips going in short fast jerks. "Fuck... yeah!.... O.... Fuck...yeah!" He slid one arm round Sherlock's neck, his other arm taking his weight and moved his legs on top of the Omega's to hold him still and spread......  
The Omega gave a low pitchy moan, his arse spasming round Alan tightly and his voice changed.... a raw plaintive cry that went straight to Riddick's cock....  
Sweet spot! 

Now they were fucking.  
The strong muscles of Riddick's arse rippled and bunched under the skin...driving his cock against the Omega's prostrate.  
"O God.... O GOD....!"  
One firm hand on the back of Sherlock's neck....Taking what was his .... fucking and stopping and fucking and stopping .... cock still in.... going again, hips pounding. Forcing him to the brink again and again  
"Ahh.... Alan.... Alan!" Sherlock sobbed in pleasured, high pitched pain and cried his name out in a broken voice.....

 

Alan had him pulled up on his knees. His body dwarfing Sherlock's.  
Sherlock's hand .... was finally on his own cock....  
"I'm going to ....gonna come..." Scared.  
"Fuck...." Alan snarled it, one big arm round under Sherlock's throat. Leaning his flushed face against Sherlock's pale shoulders as he took the Omega....seeking comfort from the body under his.  
Sherlock tugged frantically....  
Alan fucked into him.... altered his position so he was leaning back and fucked into the Omega again.... hard cock aiming against tender prostrate..."Fuck yeah.... Come on lad!.... Fuck... come for me!"  
Sherlock wailed and jerked his hand. White stripes of semen painted the sheet.  
Alan leant over to see, body on Sherlock's like two dogs fucking and snarled ... slamming his cock in ... aching for release...driving hard for it and there was a moment of still thoughtless blankness before he began to come....  
The lad's arse pulled up round his cock , tight to the point of painful.  
Alan pulled out suddenly with a shout of pain . Roaring........"Fuck yeah!....Fuck yeah.... Aargh!" watching his come splattered the hole in Sherlock's arse as the aftershocks of pleasure whited everything else out .

It felt like time had stopped.  
On the bed Sherlock lay like the dead, sprawled over the scattered pillows , loose and limbless, his thighs still open.  
Alan lay on his back next to him, staring at the ceiling , dark head by the Omega's hip bone, outflung arm over Sherlock's legs, heart racing.  
It took time for his heart to settle enough to bring Sherlock back into his arms and hold him.

In the darkened silent kitchen just the other side of the wall John stood stock still and devastated , fists working hopelessly by his thighs.


	27. Truth or Dare.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to deal with feelings of jealousy and anger as he tries to accept the reality that Sherlock is now in a sexual relationship with Alan Riddick.  
> The press close in on 221b with the access hearing almost upon Sherlock.  
> Mycroft and Greg steal a moment.
> 
> Someone knows that Sherlock is pregnant and decides to confront him about the lies he has been telling and the secret he has been keeping...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silin....heavy rain.  
> Nesh....cold.  
> Palarver ....big fuss.
> 
> There will be a second update this week...I'm a little behind with editing as I said yes to a total shock of a proposal from 'my' Riddick last night and am now engaged .. I'm still 'gobsmacked' and hungover.... LOL... I'm sure I'll get my head around the fact that he asked me... it just may take me a while , I'm stuck at the OMG stage ....!
> 
> Thanks Blue for a great track rec...it fits perfectly... Lalala by Anni. B Sweet.

Martha found her hip aching as she climbed the stairs, she took her usual pause on the half landing just as Mr Riddick came out of 221b and stood aside to let her go by, looking past her even as he stood aside and warmed up.  
" Ohh my hip is really grumbly today, it's all this rain." Martha said in passing.  
"Aye it'll be silin later." Was Alan's terse reply. " Lad's sleeping in, it's nesh for him."  
Sometimes Martha had no idea if that man was even speaking English.  
Alan ran down the last few steps, feeling he'd been delayed enough already. As the front door opened there was a rising cacophony of rabid noise from the press pack and from upstairs Martha heard him slam the door loudly behind him before he took off up the road at speed towards Regent's Park closely shadowed by four policemen who'd been chosen for their ability to keep up.

 

The door to 221b was wide open and the lights were on but the curtains had'nt been pulled, of course Mr Riddick had said Sherlock was still asleep.... Martha suspected it would be a while yet before the Omega woke up... It'd been years since she'd made the kinds of bedroom noises Sherlock had been making last night .  
Mrs Turner,the landlady from next door, had already phoned to have serious words with Martha about it... apparently the noise had upset her pug, Henry and put him right off his breakfast! It was far more likely that the pug was fine and Mrs Turner was just jealous!  
As Martha had said in fiercely loving defence of the Omega she already treated like the son she'd never had..."You needn't be such a dried up old prune about it, we were all young once! Let them have their fun!" 

There was a faint smell of takeaway food in 221b ..... lingering from the night before, that made Martha wrinkle her nose, still she could pick up one of those nice air freshners later, they were on special offer as long as you bought scented bin liners. Omega were sensitive to smell... She'd call but she knew It was hardly worth the bother, it was such a palarver to contact Mycroft for permission to open the windows so she could air the rooms out properly and he was likely to have one of his minions tell her politely that the answer was an empathatic no.... still she could pull the curtains and let a little light in, that couldn't hurt .  
The woven curtains were always thick with years of London dust.... but they kept out the city light well at night and she was sentimentally attached to them. The brass curtain rings they hung from rattled along the heavy pole as she pulled them back, she'd bought this very brass pole from Elliott and Goulds on Marylebone at their closing down sale, years ago. She'd been newly single at the time and freshly returned to the Uk from Florida, leaving behind her husband; as the newest resident of a prison cell . Back then the whole house had been bought for the princely sum of £3000 which was useful as that was almost exactly the cash sum she'd taken from Tony's wall safe before booking her flight home. Buying 221b had been one of her better decisions, unlike her marriage.

As soon she appeared at the window she saw movement and the concentrated brightly scattered, random explosions of camera flashes going off. "Goodness me! " The press were standing several deep, some had bought stepladders along with them!  
"If you don't stay back from the window you'll be front page news by this time tomorrow Martha." John said from behind her.  
"Wouldn't be the first time I've been a lurid headline John, as you know well , at least this time a senior member of Parliament won't be involved. How'd your date night with Saul go John?" " she said with a smile that faded when she turned and saw the worn, troubled expression on his face.  
"Badly.... we argued, things got a bit out of hand .... I came back here early."  
Martha put the unhappy expression on John's face together with the noisy sex she'd heard between Mr Riddick and Sherlock last night....if John had been there at that time.... " "I'll put the kettle on and we'll have a nice chat downstairs and a a scone with raspberry jam, shall we? " She said wisely, "Before Sherlock wakes up."

"Riddick's wrong .... Sherlock's been awake already this morning." John said flatly.  
Martha watched the Alpha's brow crease . To make it easier for him she sipped her tea and said gently...." I was sure he'd sleep in, he can't have got much rest last night." John's head jerked up in a stung reaction despite her subtlety and Martha found herself looking right into his revealing eyes. "Oh John!" She said with sudden understanding  
John took a mouthful of tea. "After everything Sherlock's been through Martha..... a sexual relationship, even if he thinks it's what he wants.... can bring up a lot of issues.... Someone like Riddick wouldn't even know.... where to start." John took another gulp of tea. "The man's not the sensitive sort...."  
You'd be surprised where Sherlock is concerned, Martha thought. He dotes on that young man.

"I was going to say something. God knows what.... I don't know what was going through my mind." John's bitter contempt was directed inwardly. "But he was so happy Martha," He pushed the plate away , having barely eaten a bite. "Stood there.... like it was the morning after some bloody romantic honeymoon and he didn't even realise...."  
"Realise what?" Martha said, her mild question hanging in the air unanswered.  
"That the idea of Riddick , in there , with him.... like that.... makes me sick ! That I wanted to hit the man and I don't think I'd have stopped hitting him unless I was dragged off him." John said with bleak honesty.

Martha reached for the pot , in its brightly coloured knitted tea cosy and poured herself and John a new cup. "Now just you listen to me John Watson," she began, "Jealousy and anger are terrible emotions, if you give into them then you become the lesser man and that's not who you are. That's never been who you are! Sherlock needs you.... Oh he'll never say it, of course he won't.... but I've heard you both together , giggling away like a couple of school boys till the pair of you are silly with it.... and John , I feel for you, I really do.... because I know how much you'd hoped.... but, sometimes we love someone and they love us back and the situation is right and it can work and sometimes its not and it can't and it wouldn't be right, on anybody, to push for it to happen."  
John dropped his head into his hands.

 

Greg Lestrade was having a shit morning and the heavy rain wasn't helping his mood .  
"Both, news mogul and successful businessman Charles Magnussen and Mycroft Holmes, dominant Alpha of the Holmes family, are expected to attend this initial hearing before the case begins in full tomorrow..... With us in the studio we have Hugh Holt, who established the group Alpha Fathers to promote the importance of traditional Alpha/Omega Unions, David Whyte of Whyte and May who specialise in Elite Alpha family law and Tom Smit of the Omega Alliance. Welcome gentlemen.....David , if I could start with you.... The high levels of security and secrecy surrounding this case are unprecedented are they not?"  
"Yes indeed but definative details have been slowly emerging. At the moment all we know for certain is that at some stage Charles Magnussen's own Omega bondmate, William, who is himself in his late teens, was taken from the marital home , leaving behind his young Alpha child. His whereabouts remained a mystery until earlier this year when he arrived back in the UK in the company of his older Alpha brother and an ex bodyguard, who is believed to have accompanied him throughout this entire period; a former employee of Charles Magnussen's..."  
"At which point Charles Magnussen may, not unreasonably, have expected his property to be returned to him to punish or divorce as he saw fit .... but this wasn't the case David, was it?"  
"No, indeed it was not.... instead, with the help of the one of the Omega Alliance legal team, Aric Weber; Mycroft Holmes has clung onto temporary control of his brother. This initial legal challenge for acccess is simply a stalking horse for the real legal battle to come.... the Holmes aim is bond severance." David spoke with concise disapproval."Mycroft Holmes claims that William, who is now known as Sherlock, was severely abused within the bond, that his life was endangered to such an extent that he was forced to flee.... whilst Charles Magnussen is counter claiming that Mycroft Holmes opposed the match on unreasonable grounds all along and has refused to comply with all reasonable demands to return the Omega and to sever the unsuitable relationship that Charles Magnussen claims now exists between Magnussen's ex employee and Sherlock.... in clear and blatant breach of bond law...."

"At the heart of this case is a Alpha child, Charles Magnussen's sole heir, to whom the Holmes family want access for the mother despite his abandoment of the child? Hugh , how exceptional is it for an Omega's family to challenge the authority of his Alpha in this way?"  
"That's a good question, I think we can safely say it's certainly not the norm. All we know about the Omega concerned tells us this is a somewhat naive teenager who is easily influenced..." Hugh began to answer.  
"Excuse me ? Have you even met the Omega concerned?" A new voice interjected sharply.  
"The boy is 19, a teenager, of course he is immature...." Hugh objected.....  
"Old enough to have been legally bonded... but not old enough to make any other decision past that initial agreement to bond with a man old enough to be his father?"  
"That is totally irrelevant..."

"Bunch of arrogant twats,"Greg said with feeling.....

" Let's hear what he has to say...... Tom... you campaign actively for equal rights for all Elite Omega when it comes to bond dissolution?"  
"We do. There is simply no legitimate reason to deny Elite Omega the same legal rights when it comes to seperation, divorce or child custody that those in a heterosexual Beta or common Alpha/Omega bond already have enshrined in law..."  
"Liberal nonsense! Who better to select a suitable bond mate than the family who know a young Omega best?"  
"In an ideal world , of course every bond would be happy and long lasting....but many we already know many aren't...."

"You are against family arranged bond matches Tom? "  
"We are.... its something we would like to see abolished. What we have is a form of bond more akin to slavery than a marriage...."  
"I object to that description.... many bonds are loving and supportive.... ideal family units for the raising of children...."  
"Some of the Omega are barely more than children themselves David...! "  
" Oh come now! They are of legal age!"  
"For what purpose ? To be bought and impregnated as suits their Alpha? We are talking about teenagers having babies! How old was Magnussen's Omega....? A child of 14! Would you bond an Omega of 14 yourself....?"  
"I would not, Tom... however my personal opinion isn't law.... To do so is perfectly legal and a matter for individual conscience."  
"In other words.... if you wanted to go out tomorrow , chose a child of 14 and arrange a bond match with him, to which he didn't consent.... you could David!"  
"Most Elite Alpha choose a mate of suitable age!" David remained calm.  
"You cannot apply any one individual decision to all circumstances. Some Omega may well be ready to bond and be bred , another may not! Again...the family are in the best position to know...." Hugh interjected angrily.  
"Gentlemen please....! If you continue to shout over one another.....you cannot be heard.....!" It was a losing battle .....

A polite tap upon the passenger window bought Greg's attention sharply back to his immediate surroundings at the sight of Mycroft Holmes sharply featured clever face looking in at him with well mannnered patience from beneath his black silk umbrella.  
"Sorry.... I was shouting at the radio. " Greg said,hastily turning the radio off, as he threw the door open for Mycroft to get in out of the heavy rain and thanked his lucky stars that he'd finally got around to having his car valeted yesterday and hadn't started refilling it with coffee cups , paperwork and cigarette wrappers again.... yet.  
Mycroft placed his wet umbrella carefully against the door , to avoid it dripping all over his suit and found himself surveying a strawberry scented air freshener , hung from the rear view mirror.  
Greg swore an expression of profound distaste crossed the man's face and was gone almost instantly.  
"Do please excuse me , Gregory...." Mycroft reached for the offending air freshener and removed it with a sharp tug , before opening the car door a mere inch and dropping it outside into the rain.  
Greg blinked.... "Ok...then..." was all the verbal response he managed.

Mycroft suddenly seemed to realise exactly how strange his actions might have appeared....and reopened the car door with , it appeared the intention of recovering the offending item.....upon seeing it floating in a dirty looking puddle of greyish water he shut the car door again firmly. "The smell .... that particular fruit smell is .... most unpleasant.... Your own natural scent is so much more agreeable...." He stopped mid sentance with a look of surprise at discovering he'd revealed his preference so openly.  
Greg shifted in his seat to face Mycroft before he smiled "Since thats a roundabout way of you saying you find my natural scent sexier... I don't mind sacrificing a freebie air freshener."  
Mycroft's clever grey-blue gaze remained focused on Greg's face...." You were swearing at the radio?" He said.  
" Never done it?" Greg asked. "Never ranted at the TV screen or had your say even when they can't hear you?"  
"Question Time...." Mycroft said concisely. "And those ridiculous conspiracy theorists..."  
"Rockwell?" Greg said with relish.  
"Indeed. Crop circles?" Mycroft scoffed.  
"Bigfoot?"  
"Oh come now Gregory, that's entirely feasible..." Mycroft said succinctly. "They have found tracks you know and there are the wonderfully clear photographs..."

Greg couldn't have told you who closed the gap between their mouths first when the laughter died down and the shared moment changed to something else....

Sherlock was awake but hiding out under the duvet. This wasn't a day he wanted to start. Last night had been good and if he stayed in bed he could keep hold of that happy feeling a while longer.  
When his mobile phone rang he reached for it to see who it was but made no move to answer even when he saw the name lighting up his screen. Instead he dropped the phone into the bed among the pillows and stretched languidly.  
The phone rang a second time.... Sherlock retrieved it and saw the same caller ID flashing across the screen. "Hello?"  
" We need to talk... is Alan out?" The familiar voice said.  
"Alan!!!!"....... Sherlock yelled the Alpha's name but got no reply. "Yes... He must have gone for a run, he'll be back soon.."  
"I'll come straight up then." The voice said and even as Sherlock was saying ..."No wait , I'm still in bed".. the call ended and the Omega sat up as he heard the front door open and shut and the sound of footsteps on the stairs before there was a knock at the door to 221b....


	28. Be Happy Somehow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is out but who knows it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Blush by Wolf Alice.

Sherlock rolled over onto his side and stood up quickly, as he did a fierce dragging pain stabbed through one side of his body around the edges of his womb and he froze.... standing still and gasping, open mouthed against sharp discomfort.  
"Sherlock...?"  
"Don't come in I'm not dressed." Sherlock knew he sounded a little breathless but that couldn't be hidden.  
"Are you alright? " The question came from the other side of the door.  
"Yes... of course I am... I was asleep , that's all.... you woke me up. I'll be right out."  
"I'll make tea."  
"Ok...." Sherlock snatched up the nearest item of baggy clothing he could see and pulled it over his head... shoving the sleeves over his bandaged wrist and hand as fast as he could and sliding them halfway up his skinny arms in panic.... in case the door was opened suddenly.

He came out through the bathroom door.... stopping to splash his face with water and quickly brush his teeth. As he straightened up after spitting into the sink he felt a faint pulling pain down the left side of his body again and took a minute to pause and breathe and make sure he wiped every trace of anxiety from his face, before he opened the door.... suddenly very aware that he was still in pajama bottoms, barefoot and unwashed, except for a quick wash with a warm, wet flannel that Alan had bothered him with before letting him sleep, the night before .

"Ah , there you are ...." Mycroft paused for an instant after turning to greet his brother, and his gaze travelled subtly down the Omega's body searching for confirmation.... dwelling on the unlikely assortment of baggy layered clothing instead of estimating bodily changes that still seemed non existant.... before he recovered himself smoothly and returned his gaze to Sherlock's face. "Tea?"  
"Thank you. "Sherlock accepted a cup and saucer , managing both easily as he loitered in the doorway. "Why are you here so early? I thought we weren't going to the barber until later." He knew Mycroft thought they'd agreed on a slight trim but Sherlock intended to have his head shorn as short as possible... he'd deal with all the horrified over reactions after the deed was done. The less attractive he looked when Charles saw him in Court, the better... if growing a beard were at all possible for Omega he'd have done it already.  
"The press are outside... I've arranged for my own barber to come here instead." Mycroft made certain to keep his voice level.

Sherlock glanced up, a confused expression on his face. "Is everything alright? How did your date with Greg go? "  
"Sit down, Sherlock..." Mycroft said firmly, refusing to engage in the distraction.  
"I'm ok standing.Why won't you tell me if your date went well?"  
"Sit down." Mycroft said firmly. "You've something to tell me , have you not?"  
"No.... "  
"No?"  
" Yes... No... I've nothing to tell you." Sherlock repeated uncertainly.  
"Sit down, Sherlock...." Mycroft watched the teacup rattle briefly in its saucer before Sherlock placed it carefully down on the table and sat, crossing his arms on the table top and effectively blocking any clear view of his body.  
"Nothing...?" Mycroft's tone was deceptively mild. Polite and non critical. "That's unexpected.... Gregory was most insistent that we should talk."  
But that made no sense. "Why would Greg say that ?" Sherlock knew for a fact he'd done nothing wrong .... unless Mycroft knew about the time he'd looked in the confidential murder case file that he'd been expressly told not to touch; while Greg was paying the delivery driver for a take away.... "About Police business?.... Did I do something wrong?" Sherlock said in a small voice, dreading that Mycroft was about to ban him from further opportunities to learn from the detective. "Did he say I can't see crime scene photos any more?"  
"That would be unlikely, would it not, brother mine? What else might you need to tell me Sherlock?" Mycroft asked calmly.

"I should shower..."Sherlock said a little too quickly. "We could talk later? After I'm dressed."  
"Ah yes. Of course. I had noticed the strange assortment of clothing but it seemed best not to pass comment... That is Alan's Riddick's sweatshirt, is it not? He wore it yesterday." Mycroft watched his brother's eyes move to the doorway wistfully.  
" It's cold and his clothes are warmer." Sherlock said and there was a new brittle defensiveness in his voice that Mycroft now knew meant he was lying. "Why does what I wear matter? Nobody is here to see me except you."  
"Call it curiousity. I enjoy noticing such things , as do you. Our little deduction game , you recall how we played ?"  
Sherlock gave a tiny nod.  
"Lets play now..." Mycroft suggested.  
"I don't want to." Sherlock refused pointblank.

Mycroft simply ignored the refusal. "Alan Riddick for example.... From personal observations of the man, I'd describe him as organised but not fanatically so. Tidy in that purely functional way ex soldiers so often are. You agree? Not the type to leave worn clothing lying around, yet the slight creasing indicates it was thrown on a chair and remained there all night... Now why wouldn't he have picked it up this morning? The most likely explanation is of course the simplest.... he couldn't locate it in the dark and didn't want to risk waking you by turning on a light. He thought you'd be tired enough to need a lie in.... Why might he think that?"  
Sherlock sat very still and said nothing.

"Well, this is where things _do _get interesting, don't they Sherlock? You were slow to sit down. Indeed you chose to stand initially. Feeling a little tender are we? Now that suggests a whole new scenario.... What is that revolting phrase people use in regard to a romantic relationship becoming a sexual one.... ' moved to the next level'? I can't abide such vagaries. Bluntness is of course more uncouth yet sometimes the situation demands it.... You had sex last night." A deceptively simple statement to describe a far more complex truth he knew. "But it wasn't the first time you've been so intimate, was it Sherlock? If he can find his way in and out of your bedroom in the dark without waking somebody who sleeps as lightly as you do. No.... if this was the first time you'd had sex then slept all night together you wouldn't be so used to him being there."__

____

"He left it on the end of the bed for me to wear... He never minds if I borrow his clothes. I do it a lot." Sherlock sat very still as his legs shook beneath the table, out of sight.  
"Thank you for dropping the pretence that you and he are anything less than lovers in every sense of the word," Mycroft remarked in a voice he kept deliberately low enough to be non threatening. "Of course... you find wearing his scent reassurring. You'd need that. In the absence of a bond."  
"What...?" Sherlock was unsettled , anxious enough to ask what Mycroft meant.  
"Never mind." Mycroft dismissed it as if it was unimportant and took a sip of tea, watching Sherlock closely. Watching for the telltale signs that Sherlock wanted out of both the conversation and the small room.  
Sherlock flicked his gaze towards the door as though estimating how many steps he'd need and inched back his chair, giving Mycroft a wary glance as he got ready to move.  
"Don't forget to drink your tea. It's such a cold morning." Mycroft said as he pushed back his own chair back , stretched out his long legs and became in two simple moves a blocking obstacle to be navigated around... He watched as his brother's gaze moved reluctantly away from his possible escape route.

Mycroft reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew a compact notepad. He saw how Sherlock's eyes fixed on it instantly.  
"On the 23rd Alan Riddick used his credit card to purchase multi-vitamins and Omega lubricant in a chemist in Marylebone."  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow .... "It's lubricant, do you really want me to explain how we use it, because that will just be embarassing for us both?"  
"Of course not.... and the vitamins?" Mycroft allowed Sherlock more time to work up sufficent courage for the honesty he was still hoping for.  
"He's a vitamin addict.... vitamin B mostly but sometimes he'll drop a few tabs of liquid vitamin E just to feel that extra buzz...." Sherlock answered with the usual deflective sarcasm, that he always resorted to when cornered. "How do I know? Why do you care what he buys?.... I think he bought some polo mints yesterday, would you like to have them tested or inspect the packet?"

"That won't be necessary Sherlock.... However.... on the 23rd Alan also purchased two books. The titles of which were most revealing. I assume you have them hidden in the bedroom? The chest of drawers? Ah, of course not ... inside the wardrobe then? "  
Sherlock was shivering. Mycroft watched his thin, scarred arms vibrate against the table top and resisted the urge to lay a comforting hand on top of his brother's bandaged wrist.  
"You win. You can stop now." Sherlock said, his voice laced with a miserable defeat.  
"I wish that was true." Mycroft said. "But , I very much fear, there is no winner in this situation. However.... there are options, if we act promptly. How many weeks pregnant are you?"  
It took him a few minutes to realise Sherlock was laughing with a bitter hysteria and seemed unable to stop.

Mycroft placed a glass of cold water on the table in front of Sherlock. "Sip slowly , don't gulp."  
"In case it gives me hiccups .... I know." Sherlock acknowledged the familiarity of the advice Nanny had always given them. He'd stopped laughing now and looked miserable again.  
Mycroft remembered the frail, entrancing child Sherlock had been. Sat in front of the fire on damp days , impatiently watching as Mycroft impaled slices of plum bread, purloined from the pantry, onto the three bent prongs of the old Georgian toasting fork before he'd allow Sherlock to hold them out to the flickering flames. He always burnt them , even then, too busy watching the colours and shifting shapes of the fire to concentrate for long enough.  
"I can help you Sherlock. I want to help. The important thing is that Charles Magnussen does not find out," Mycroft said gently. "And that can be achieved discretely if it's done today."  
Sherlock shook his head. "It really can't ." His hand moved to his the zipper of the hugely baggy sweatshirt and pulled it down.

Mycroft found himself staring at the unmistakeable rounded shape of a pregnancy that was much further along in gestation than he had assumed. The narrow white strip of skin he could see running under the t-shirt and above the taut waistband of the pj bottoms was deathly pale and the skin around Sherlock's belly button looked bluish in the cold morning light. " I see.... How many months pregnant are you?" He asked in a tone so devoid of all emotion in order to mask his horror that it was almost lifeless.  
"16 or 17... weeks... maybe. I don't know for sure without scans." Sherlock finally admitted and every good intention Mycroft had of handling this appalling news well was lost.  
" What were you thinking! I cannot believe you've been this irresponsible! What on earth was going through your mind that you even thought to keep this to yourself for so long!".... Mycroft saw Sherlock wince at the words. " As much as 17 weeks! How is that even possible? For Heavens sake how?"

Sherlock had pulled the sweatshirt back together to cover his body but had found his hands were shaking too much to zip it up . He was frozen in place, his eyes fixed on Mycroft's hands constantly, monitoring the Alpha's every move. " You can buy..."he began the explanation , then faltered as Mycroft fell silent to hear him...."Fake slick... from online porn shops .... its an aphrodisiac.... "  
"You faked your heat scent?" Mycroft said with bitter realisation. "Of course you did. You've deliberately hidden this!.... You've told lie upon lie!"  
"You're shouting." Sherlock said in a low voice.  
"I've raised my voice.... I believe its a not inappropiate reaction upon discovering you've been lied to by your own brother for months in a deliberate act of deception." Mycroft heard the angry sarcasm in his own voice. "Whose idea was this insulting tapestry of lies?"  
"Mine." Sherlock said guility. "All mine."

"I cannot believe that you have been so incredibly stupid. Have you any idea what you have done?" Mycroft said bluntly.  
Silence...... Then. "I know it's a surprise but I was...." Sherlock began awkwardly.  
"A surprise?.... No Sherlock. A surprise would indicate something that may well be exciting or beneficial, enlightening even. This...." Mycroft cut across the Omega and made a vague gesture in the direction of Sherlock's body...." this is an unmitigated disaster."  
"It's a baby. My baby." Sherlock's reaction was instinctively defensive.  
"Is the father Charles Magnusen?" Mycroft said stiffly.  
"No! You know it's Alan's . Mine and Alan's."  
"Then I repeat.... it's a disaster. You are bonded! Need I be clearer... this pregnancy, at this time, in _this _situation, with _this _Alpha... is a disaster!" Mycroft made a wide gesture with his arm to emphasise his point and was shocked into appalled silence when his brother visibly flinched away and cowered, clearly expecting a blow....____

_____ _

"I've never struck you Sherlock. I've never wanted to strike you. Never. " Mycroft heard the utter sadness in his voice.  
"People do." Sherlock said. "It's what they do when they get angry enough. Words then fists."  
Mycroft reproached himself silently, for not noticing the insidious, vile signs of Sherlock's mounting fear.

"I could never be the type of man, Siger wanted me to be." Mycroft pronounced each word very distinctly." I will never act as he did."  
"That makes two of us then, neither will I." Sherlock replied. "He wasn't much of a man."  
Mycroft looked into the deep inky blue of Sherlock's eyes. "He really wasn't was he."  
"I want to do better than he did. At least I want it." Sherlock said. "If I can be as good a mother as you were a brother then it should be ok...."


	29. A Blunt Refusal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of just how pregnant Sherlock is really hits home for John and he is instantly concerned about the risks Sherlock is facing.  
> Things disintegrate between Riddick and John.  
> Greg mediates but its a thankless task.  
> Mycroft allies himself with his brother.  
> Sherlock refuses to cooperate , afraid of losing his unborn baby......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Eyes Closed by Halsey.

Greg heard Alan coming before he saw him. The shouts of "Alan over here! Over here!... Where's Sherlock, Alan?" from the press rose in volume as the flash bulbs lit up and Greg saw two of the policemen running alongside the Alpha manoevre themself in between Riddick and the massed press pack as a human shield.  
Riddick's jaw was set and his bright blue eyes were fiercely angry. The look of acknowledgement he gave Greg was brusque but friendly enough and Greg stood aside on the doorstep with a nod as Riddick pulled out his keys from one zipped, sweatshirt pocket.  
"Bloody leeches.... Sherlock hates them." Riddick sounded tense as he looked behind him at the shouting paparazzi and Greg didn't miss the resigned look he gave Mycroft's car and driver as he fitted his house key into the lock and opened the door. "You coming up?..... Mycroft's here early, I thought Sherlock said 11 ish? "  
"Yeah... about that...." Greg began guiltily as they stepped inside into the narrow hallway. "He knows...."  
There wasn't time to say more.

John Watson was sat waiting on the old chair outside Mrs Hudson's door. "You fucking bastard,"he said in a hard edged voice he kept deliberately low but which was full of a tightly controlled livid anger. "Pregnant!.... You got him fucking pregnant?...... You manipulative piece of shit."  
Greg was close enough to Riddick to see the immediate physical response to John's words as it took over the Alpha's body, the rigid bunching of muscle and the deep inhalation both threatened violence. Without a word he stepped forward between the two Alpha men...."You both need to calm down...."  
"Manipulative?" The word was a low ugly utterance in Alan's mouth.  
"Had to make sure of him, did you....?" John said bitterly. "Course you did. Get him pregnant.... stake a claim....that the plan was it?"  
"It wasn't like that." Alan said shortly, his stare levelling John.  
"Like Hell it wasn't." John's fist clenched." I should fucking kill you for this... if Mycroft doesn't!"  
"John! He'll hear you. The door's always open upstairs." Greg warned both of them.

Alan flicked his unpredictable blue stare from John to Greg and made a sudden unstoppable sprint up the stairs, shouldering John ruthlessly aside as he sprang forward to intercept, their bodies crashing in a brief explosive collision.  
"Fuck!" John cursed as he was sent sprawling sideways into the wooden bannister, hitting it shoulder first.  
"Shit! Leave it to me John" Greg swore, already racing up after Riddick....

"Sherlock! Sherlock.... you alright lad?" Alan hurtled through the open door and into the sitting room.  
Greg was mere seconds behind the man, the black taser out of his belt.... He could see Mycroft rising to his feet, standing in between Alan and Sherlock.... the threat to him was clear....  
"TASER!" Greg yelled a clear warning at Riddick. "Stand still Alan or I will use it!"  
Everyone froze.  
"Stop!... Stop!" Sherlock called out, fear for Alan saturating his voice as John appeared in the doorway behind Riddick his face furious. "Alan don't move!"

Riddick broke the silence first, voice flooded with concern.... "Sherlock you ok lad?"  
"Stay where you are!" Greg repeated the order."Do not move!"  
"Alright ....alright.... Jesus, Greg!" Alan held both hands out away from his body to prove he posed no threat  
"Please don't get tasered! Alan... please! ....I'm ok, I'm fine." There was growing panic in Sherlock's voice."Don't move!"  
"I'm staying still...." Alan was motionless.  
"He's just trying to look after me Greg! He's my bodguard, it's his job." Sherlock was pleading. "Please."  
Greg lowered the taser downwards and saw the sheer relief in Sherlock's pale face.

"Long as you're ok?" Alan's fist was clenching and unclenching so hard the knuckles were bone white. "You are ok, lad? Nobody hurt you?"  
Sherlock took three steps forward...  
Greg heard John caution Sherlock against going any nearer to Alan .... "Sherlock... Be careful ."  
Sherlock shook his head at John's concern and took another few steps closer to Alan."It's ok John," he said again with a steady trust and took the last two steps to bring him directly in front of the Alpha."You'd never hurt me would you Alan?" Without another word he leant his forehead against Riddick's chest and Alan's arms came up instantly to wrap him round. 

Greg stared speechlessly at the neat rounded shape of Sherlock's belly now it wasn't hidden under the baggy layering. He was very aware of John's vocal shock behind him as he realised the same thing. Bloody Hell, Sherlock had to be months gone not weeks! No wonder Alan was as over protective he was!  
"Baby alright?" Alan was asking.

"Neep's fine." Sherlock said, his voice muffled against Riddick's body."You nearly got yourself tasered! Who did you think you were saving me from.... Mycroft?"  
Mycroft looked affronted and resigned at the same time.  
"Don't ask me lad.... plan seemed a good 'un at the time," Alan chuckled. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been bloody electrocuted either. I took a piss against an electric cattle fence once in the dark on a night march .... that was bad enough."  
"You idiot." Sherlock said softly.

"Now we've come , somewhat belatedly, to the conclusion that none of us pose a threat to Sherlock or the child he carries ....perhaps we could all sit down?" Mycroft suggested.  
John went for the old shabby armchair nearest him , moving with a marked limp, rubbing his thigh bone hard and frowning in Alan's direction.  
"Sorry about all that downstairs.... a misunderstanding." Riddick said.  
"Course it was." John replied evenly, his eyes hard .....

Sherlock sat in between Mycroft and Alan on the couch, their quiet support either side of him felt already like sides had been taken.  
Greg took the chair by the desk.... neutral ground.  
John was blunt. "You've been lying to us all since you got here?"  
Riddick's protective "It's not the lad's fault,"clashed with Sherlock's quiet admittance of his own responsibilty. "Alan wanted to tell... I wouldn't let him."  
Greg saw Mycroft narrow his eyes at the relationship dynamic that revelation had revealed.

"How many months are you?" John asked.... because he could see it had to be months and not the short weeks he'd expected. What a bloody nightmare.  
"I'm not sure." Sherlock was very quiet. He sounded guilty. " 17 weeks , maybe. Neep...I mean the baby ....it's been kicking for a while."  
Too late for anything to be done Greg knew as Mycroft's worried eyes met his in silent acknowledgement.

"How can you not know dates?" John wanted the truth.  
"Sherlock has had no antenatal care beyond an initial confirmation of his pregnancy in Finland."Mycroft moved to explain the situation and spare Sherlock .  
"Nothing?" John said sharply, instantly worried given Sherlock's medical history..  
"The visit to the free clinic... was that after you realised you were pregnant?" Mycroft asked Sherlock for clarification.  
"No, I found out then." Sherlock looked unhappy, Alan said it wasn't his fault but if he'd never gone there then Sherlock knew Lars would never have been hurt. "I went there to get an implant.... contraception....."

"Then you didn't want a pregnancy?" John pounced on the admisssion. "You were trying to avoid one?"  
"Jesus! Trust you to jump on that!" Alan snapped, angered by the assumption.  
"What does it matter?" Sherlock said quietly. "I was pregnant already.... I still am pregnant." He stared defiantly back at all the faces staring at him unaware of how highly strung and brittle he looked. "It's a baby not a problem to get rid of."

"So... then.... why didn't you tell any of us? " John asked.  
Greg wanted the answer to that particular question too.  
"He thought he'd likely lose it."Alan's voice cut into the tense stand off, trying to explain.  
"How about you let Sherlock talk for himself?" John was abrupt.  
Alan shook his head..."I've not said he can't."  
"This petty crap isn't helping anyone," Greg spoke up.  
"Indeed." Mycroft's disapproval was transparent.

"Alan's right.... I was bleeding... Lars.... thought I'd miscarry." Sherlock looked unhappy, the tension clearly upsetting him already.  
"Bleeding?" John asked concerned instantly. "Implantation spotting? It was heavy? Clotting?"  
Sherlock gave a single tight nod.  
John looked at Sherlock's pronounced pallour and said. "Are you still bleeding?"  
Mycroft's astute gaze moved to Sherlock and stayed.  
"No " Sherlock's voice was muted. "There's been a few days when I have again but it never got heavy , there were never any big clots .... no cramps... It's not been like it was.... the times I miscarried before."

"Any bleeding following anal sex?" John had to ask, needed to know.  
Sherlock looked down awkwardly, his face flushed scarlet and muttered something in Danish.  
"We haven't been trying that....." Riddick said gruffly. "Not since Finland. Last night was the only time since we got here."  
"Any pain during or after?" John valiantly fought the urge to grit his teeth.  
"What kind of animal do you think I bloody am?" Alan said angrily.  
"Some... only when we started."Sherlock said appologetically.  
Alan's head shot around to look at Sherlock's face... his reaction was one of real shock. "O fuck.... Sherlock, why didn't you say?"  
Sherlock shook his head.  
"It shouldn't hurt."Alan said, his voice strained.  
" Well.... sometimes it does." Sherlock said in a tight defensive voice.

"He'll need a scan.... an examination... today. We need to check the position of the placenta. It could be low lying.. There could be cervical concerns...We need to know what's going on." John said.  
Mycroft took a steadying breath... still processing what he'd just heard Sherlock say with such appallingly calm acceptance. Concentrate .... "Of course John."

"You should have said... I'd never hurt you." There was so much guilt in Rididck's voice.  
"You'd stop if I said..." Sherlock looked up as he spoke, his eyes intense and passionate.  
"Course I fucking would! I love you." Alan was devastated.  
"That would be worse...."  
"What can be any bloody worse than me hurting you without bloody knowing?" Alan shook his head.  
"Worse would be you stopping like it's your fault! It's not! If it's anyone's fault it's mine. It's my body doesn't work like it should." Sherlock said bleakly.  
"How many times have I got to tell you." Alan said dully. "The way I feel about you goes way past fucking. I'd do anything you want... and nothing you don't want. I'm happy.... long as you're happy."  
"I am happy... You know I am."Sherlock wiped at his eyes angrily. "You're mine.... you know I love you.... so why are you speaking like... sex... is something you do to me that I don't want! That's wrong. I want you. I want it with you."  
Greg wasn't sure what words he heard John mutter but the sound was pained.

"You can't just power through ... not if its bloody hurting you." Alan struggled to explain.  
"Yes I fucking can! Sherlock was adamant. "Things hurt.... Having a baby hurts for fucks sake.... nobody says never do it ever again.... they say second time around it'll be easier!.... It's my body." Sherlock said and Greg could hear him desperately trying to convince Riddick. "You have to listen to me... I liked it , I wanted it... you know I do!.... You know Alan!.... You can't just say no just because you're scared of hurting me. How's it going to get better if you do that? Why should everything normal I want be ruined?"  
"I'm fucked if I know all the answers lad.... but you still should have told me," was Alan's reply.

 

Nobody else was saying it, so Greg did... since he was the only other Omega in the room. "The thing with sex," the 'sex' word bought every set of eyes in the room his way.... great! "It's meant to be easy... they make it look that way in the movies.... but it isn't always, Sherlock. Everyone acts like they've never had a bother but you ask couples when they are being 100% honest and a lot will tell you they've had their share of bedroom issues.... Talking really helps. It's like anything else in life...the better you both communicate and the more honest you are about it... the easier it goes."

John's voice was tense but he tried to stay professional and help Sherlock.... "There's nothing wrong with you Sherlock. Everything you've been through... its traumatic... but there's ways to move past that... sexually I mean.... If that's what you want? You don't have to push yourself if you aren't ready. You've the right to say no and nobody has a right to force things along faster than you are 100% comfortable with."  
Alan's jaw clenched.  
Sherlock took a deep breath...." With Alan? It's what I want."  
Alan snuck his hand down between his thigh and Sherlock's and took hold of the Omega's hand hoping nobody could see as Sherlock squeezed back.  
"Ok then...." John said, his eyes following the movement stiffly. "Then there's therapy. "  
"More therapy." Sherlock was instantly crestfallen.

"Couple therapy. You'd both go together. It's talk based then you try things .... sexually.... at home... starting right back at stage one with the simple stuff.... and you talk to the therapist again about how it went and any problems you had and work around that. Basically that's it." John said.  
Alan was staring across the room at John.... 'fuck you' writ large over his face.  
"Problem?" John said.  
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Riddick responded.  
Sherlock's looked to Riddick instantly. "Alan?" There was confusion in his face.  
Alan looked away from John and back to Sherlock as he gave a nod..." If it's what you want then it's alright love" .... before his stare moved back to John. "I'll set it up."

"I'm sure John has contacts he can recommend...."Mycroft tried to help, meaning well.  
"Yeah? I'm sure he fucking does. I said I'll fix it. There's a free clinic down the road... I'll go in tomorrow and see what they say." Riddick clearly wasn't happy.  
"A free clinic?" Mycroft hoped his astonishment wasn't quite as obvious as it felt. "Why ever would you go there? I can afford the very best.... It's for Sherlock?"  
"It's for the both of us. So... no.... I don't want your involvement or his." Riddick jerked his head at John. "I'll choose and it'll be a free clinic not some snobby private place." Alan refused to back down.

"Don't be so bloody difficult.... take my help!" John said.  
"Free clinic will do just fine." Alan replied.  
"I cannot see why you would subject Sherlock to that in his condition! When he could be seen on time in far more comfortable surroundings!" Mycroft said with pointed disapproval.  
Greg couldn't believe how quickly things had disintregrated again.

"Course you don't.... Look I may not have worked out if you are chief of M15 or whatever the Hell you are yet and I know he's a bloody Doctor and there's probably sod all gonna be kept private from him, but I'm still going to try and keep up some kind of sham that what the lad and me say you both don't know within the hour!" Alan sounded fed up and Greg remembered him saying he liked privacy within a bond.... "Anyone want a mug of tea?.... Sherlock? I'm making a brew."  
"Me , please." Sherlock said faintly. "I feel weird...."  
"Weird how?" John and Alan reacted at once.  
"Dizzy.... I think I need to lay down.... The co-operative teamwork as Sherlock's pulse was checked, a glass of iced water and a pillow was bought and his long legs picked up and tucked under a blanket on the couch, was very telling.... Greg almost laughed when he saw Sherlock's wide innocent eyes taking it all in from the pillow. As distractions went it was perfectly timed.

"Why did you keep it hidden Sherlock?" John kept his voice low and patient as he checked Sherlock's pulse again. Riddick was only in the kitchen..... "You could have told us. You do know that?"  
Mycroft waited to hear what level of honesty John could extract from Sherlock.  
Sherlock looked down at the rise of his neat bump under the blanket. " I wouldn't let myself think it'd be ok in case then it wasn't. I thought maybe keeping it secret was... not good luck exactly, more avoiding bad luck.... like if fate didn't see I was still pregnant it'd be alright...." He hesitated. "Hoi ... I hated seeing him every week... the examinations... they really hurt but he'd never listen.... and if I was feeling alright when I went into see him, then I never was when I left...." Sherlock looked down at his own fingers as they twisted together.  
Mycroft took the slow calming exhalation he desperately needed and was surprised by how ragged it sounded.  
" I know it sounds stupid .... but if my body is made to do this then why can't people just leave me alone and let me try?..... Alan bought books and we've done everything they say...except I ate a packet of dry roasted peanuts one time which I know was wrong.... I can do this my own way. I know I can." Sherlock begged tearfully for John to understand. "If doctors start doing what Hoi did.... I'll get tense and I'll lose the baby, I know I will!"

"That's not how things work Sherlock," John began. "You've a complicated medical history before so any pregnancy would be high risk automatically .... you need extra care if anything. You haven't had bloodwork or growth scans and those are just the basics in any antenatal care package."  
Greg knew John was coming from a place of informed concern but it disturbed him to see Sherlock's fears going unanswered now the Omega had finally vocalised them. He couldn't stay out of it....."How do you feel about medical exams, Sherlock?"  
"I hate them. I can't breathe, my heart races.... I'm cold but I'm sweaty... I feel like I'll faint or be sick or both ...."  
John knew from the description.... panic attack.

"The examination Lars gave you .... how was that examination made possible?" Mycroft saw an opening.  
"He was good with Sherlock, you liked him didn't you lad?.... But even he had to put him right to sleep." Alan said from the doorway.  
John frowned...."Did he try any twilight sedation first Sherlock? Anything to make you sleepy or more relaxed before he tried the internal exam?"  
"Yes...." Sherlock said unhappily, looking away and Greg had never heard a positive answer that sounded so overwhelmingly negative.... " I can't... I can't do it like that... He did try, he was really nice about everything....It was me, I kept shaking.... you could hear my teeth banging together."

"For fucks sake!" Alan said , reacting to Sherlock's upset protectively. "Let the lad alone! All this rehashing does him no good."  
"I'm trying to help find a solution. All you've done is enable...!" John retorted.  
Sherlock gave a shaky heartfelt sigh, his face pale.... and this time it was Mycroft who tried to put a stop to the pointless bickering and accusations.... "My brother's welfare and safety is the focus for us all!.... John, can you draw the bloods you need today? "  
"Is that ok with you Sherlock? After you've drunk the tea and had a slice of toast or something would be best as you're feeling a bit faint." John asked for permission and didn't assume.

Sherlock nodded but nobody missed the wary reluctance behind his agreement.  
"A blood test tells us a lot of things.... but there's no real substitute for seeing what's going on inside." John made his point. "We can date the pregnancy with a scan and take some measurements that will tell us how the baby is growing..."  
"Ok..." Sherlock seemed increasingly doubtful.  
"An internal exam.... lets us know if we can expect a premature birth... the cervix should be tightly closed at this stage... there's a small possibilty it isn't.... " John knew what Sherlock's answer would be from his face alone.  
"No." Sherlock made sure he'd been heard. "No. No . No.... I'm not risking my baby. Nothing like that.... nothing internal."  
"You heard him." Riddick said. "Book your scan , the internal isn't happening."

 

"I could happily punch Alan RIddick into the middle of next week." John said with frustration. "He has too much influence on Sherlock altogether"  
Mycroft raised a sardonic eyebrow..." It seemed to be the other way around to me , John."  
" Sherlock made his own mind up from what I could see," Greg agreed with Mycroft.  
"Since when were you Riddick's head cheer leader Greg!" John said sourly.  
"I'm not." Greg said shortly. " You're seeing what you want to see John. Sherlock has a mind of his own that's all too clear!"

" I don't believe Sherlock thought up this whole charade by himself! " John said.  
Mycroft spoke up. "He can be very deceitful when he feels there is no other choice John!"  
" That's not the Sherlock I knew," John refuted it.

" I bet he was a handful your brother, growing up." Greg meant it kindly.  
"He was always an obstinate child.... stubborn yet fragile.... it's such an impossible combination to manage Gregory..." Mycroft gave a sigh.

"You still feel he needs to agree to the internal examination?" Mycroft said with an obvious mild dislike of the topic.  
"Of course. But he doesn't want to do it... it's been painful before and he blames his miscarriages on it." John didn't see how they were to persuade him.

"He's frightened." Greg could only guess how scared but it clearly wasn't a new fear. "Whatever doctor examined him has a lot to answer for."  
"Hoi was Magnussen's own physician, Gregory..... according to Riddick's testimony, he witnessed the man perform an internal examination that was more akin to an assault and caused Sherlock considerable pain." Mycroft said quietly..... "If we were to sedate Sherlock fully as Lars did?"  
"Far too risky... I don't know anybody who'd consent to do an examination like that against Sherlock's will. It's unethical. We need him to agree to whatever examinations he will and hope he changes his mind." John shook his head. 

" Then I may have a suggestion...." Mycroft said succinctly.


	30. No Hiding Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its time to face Magnussen in Court.... but the team are scattered , shocked by the revelation that Sherlock is pregnant.  
> Mycroft readies himself to challenge Magnussen for a second time.  
> Greg is kept busy at work....dealing with yet another Elite Omega corpse....  
> John can't cope with the realisation that he has lost Sherlock for a second time...  
> Riddick tries to stay strong and focused but a secret is weighing on his mind....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Demons by Imagine Dragons.

Mycroft stepped naked from the steamy damp heat of his huge walk in shower and reached for a one of several White Company bath sheets that hung upon a gleaming heated towel rail. Once safely wound about his lean hips he took another to dry his hair before smoothing it back with his hands and walking to the mirror to stare judgementally at the reflection of his face. It was hard not to see again the inexperienced young man he had been the last time he had challenged Charles Magnussen legally and lost.  
For a second Mycroft closed his eyes and reopened them... noting the inevitable signs of age that marked the passage of the years and the challenges that had filled them. There were faint brackets either side of his mouth now and a hollowing under the lucid eyes that showed fatique. It was the face of a man who ran on little sleep nightly.... it was the face of their father Siger and many of its subtle stress markers were already shared by Sherlock...

Against the navy blue walls of Mycroft's dressing room the burnished shine of the bespoke walnut drawer fronts and antique table with its brass lions claw casters shone richly.  
A shirt was easily selected.... Gieves and Hawkes, the finest cotton..... as were the white gold cufflinks. The suit took a little longer, in the end Mycroft selected a quintessentially English Paul Smith three piece, in Prince Of Wales check.... it should serve its purpose in reminding the judges that the Holmes had the traditional English lineage that Magnussen did not.  
The tie, navy blue with flying geese adorning its silk was a break with convention... an symbolic nod to the freedom Mycroft hoped to attain for Sherlock this second time around......  
Mycroft did up five out of the six leather buttons on the waistcoat but left the bottom one undone... try as he might he never seemed to be as flat or toned as he wished. He really should make more effort to control his appetite. There was no excuse. Gregory had never commented but that didn't mean he hadn't noticed.....  
The silver cased hunter watch was a family piece, made by Woodford for his grandfather in 1860.... its familiar weight in his palm was reassurring as he checked the time and slipped it into its small pocket.  
Last of all Mycroft pushed the ring, with its hound and deer engraving, that marked him as the head Alpha of the Holmes family onto his ring finger and clenched his fist against it before he relaxed his hand with a shake.  
When he stood in front of the mirror for the second time, despite his self doubts, he was satisfied that Charles Magnussen would find no weakness.

 

Greg ducked under the half rolled up metal garage shutter, sucked in mouthfuls of fresh air and fought the urge to puke his guts up. God knows how long that body had been there. The stench inside had been nauseating, a cloying malevolence that stuck to skin and clothing ..... the feet and legs that were all he could see of the body without disturbing evidence, were a rotten shade of greyish purple, mottled and swollen.  
The rest of the body was hidden in a rough cotton sheet , the type used by decorators to protect furniture from paint spatters. Greg didn't envy the forensic guys who'd just gone inside to unwrap that heaving blood soaked mess and get a lungful of decomposition.  
"Guv? You want one?" Sally gave Greg a sideways glance and held out a packet of smokes.  
"No ... thanks Sally. Trying to quit."  
"Since when?"  
"Since forever it feels like..." Greg muttered knowing well he'd wish he'd said yes for the rest of the morning.  
"What have we got ?" Greg said as Anderson emerged looking green about the gills.  
"Omega . Male . Teenage/ young adult ... going from the foot size I'd say a young adult. Been there at least 4 weeks. Possibly more. Blunt force trauma to face and head.... lacerations to torso and thighs and possibly the buttocks ... hard to see but we'll know more when we scrape him off the floor and get the body back to the morgue. There's a ring but the fingers are so decomposed its embedded...."  
"Another Elite Omega." Greg fought the urge to shiver as a chill ran down his back. "Nothing else on the body?"  
"Semen .... " came the bleak reply. "The kids skin is covered in it."  
"I want a full DNA work up." Greg turned up the collar of his raincoat. "Get it on my desk soon as you can. A complete set of crime scene photos.... the whole building inside and out , the street outside..... everything." 

" Tell me you don't plan on showing the freak? " Sally asked as soon as she got back into the car.  
"Don't call him that. He has a name." Greg opened a packet of spearmint chewing gum and put two sticks into his mouth at once.  
"Sherlock ....then..... " Sally named him reluctantly. "He's a kid Greg , not trained , not police.... not even one of us..."  
" He's Elite.... so? He sees things Sally, clues you'd not put together he can see the story of a life in... and he does it faster than anyone I've ever seen. This is the third body in four months .... all Omega , all Elite, all male , all young . I'll bet you any money this one has been violently sexually assaulted as well. Whoever the perp is they aren't coming up on our DNA data base. If Sherlock can give us any fresh ideas I'm for giving him a chance."  
"So why do you sound like you're still trying to convince yourself showing him the crime scene is a good idea?" Sally knew Greg well enough to read him.  
Greg sighed...."To show him anything I've to get past three of the most over protective Alpha I've ever known.... One will happily tear me a new one if I upset Sherlock at all, one's my ex and he's already pissed off with me and thinks I'm taking sides against him and the most potentially intimidating one of the lot.... I'm dating."  
"No pressure there then.... just ask them all round for Sunday lunch, whip those maggotty corpse photos down on the table next to the gravy boat and lets all see how strong Sherlock's stomach really is?" Sally said with the notoriously black NSY sense of humour.  
Greg couldn't help laughing. 

John forced Saul backwards against the row of hospital lockers in the unused ward, so hard that he heard the thump of the other Alpha's back against the metal.  
Saul had seen it instantly... the pain in John's eyes underneath the dark desire. He knew without asking who'd caused it..... Sherlock.... always Sherlock.  
John's angry mouth was on Saul's, breathlessly demanding , his tongue prying Saul's lips apart and driving in deep .  
Saul grabbed hold of John's blue surgical scrubs, twisting it up into balled handfuls , using it to drag John in hard until his engorged cock was thrusting against John's body. Rutting, hips driving against John's toned body as the lockers rocked behind them. For a minute he was dominant then John snarled a warning , hauled Saul foward away from the lockers at his back and repeatedly slammed him back into them until Saul was gasping, chest heaving, bruised all down his back. He didn't care about the damage, hands already inside John's green hospital scrubs, roughly palming the thick rock hard cock that John was thrusting through his grasp.  
"Tighter," John growled. "Over the knot.... hard.... Hurt me Saul. Hurt me."

Saul closed a fist around the swollen hot base of John's cock, squeezing so hard with thumb and crushing fingers he felt John's cock pulse and throb and heard John groan in pain before John's fierce mouth was ravaging his neck brutally, biting at mouthfuls of skin and sucking so hard it left red marks full of blood.  
John caught hold and dragged Saul's body around , pressing him face first into the cold dented metal with his whole body.  
Saul spread his legs and braced with both arms above his head , showing off the muscled length of his back as he pushed his arse out for John to use.  
John drove his leaking cock against hard muscled arse and firm skin, hand gripping both Saul's hips...."Say you want me!" he demanded. "Say you want my fucking knot.... Say it!"  
"Fuck me .... Fuck me John." Saul felt the thick length of John's cock pressing up into the crack of his arse, pre-cum smeared wet over his skin as John shifted behind him, fist round his own cock and reangled his cock before driving under Saul , hard shaft under Saul's hot hanging sack and knots rubbing on each other as Saul tugged at his own stiff cock frantically.  
John mouthed at Saul's shoulders roughly instinctively seeking the glands beneath the skin that Saul lacked. Saul jerked his body away , forcing John to break that contact and step back before he came at Saul again, slamming him into the locker so hard it hurt and seizing him round his muscled waist. Rutting up against the other Alpha's braced body as Saul pushed back into each driving thrust, using both arms to force his body back against John's.  
John gave a raw snarl and forced one hand down between them , pushing up to force both knots hard together, fingers crushing round of their knotted cocks as he could reach in a grip so brutal Saul saw red as he came , thick goblets of splattered come hitting the locker front as John grunted , yanked his body back and came over Saul's arse before pushing it through Saul's shaking legs with his cock again and again, smearing his claim on the other Alpha's sweaty flushed skin.  
It took Saul a minute to realise John's disordered, loud breathing wasn't all due to exertion or pleasures aftermath at all....

John sat on the bench with his head in his hands and fought back the raw tide of emotion.  
"Talk to me John." Saul was crouched down but John wouldn't raise his head to let his face be seen.  
"You don't want to hear it, not if its about Sherlock and it's not fair on you to have to listen." John said flatly.... knowing how Saul felt.  
"No...I don't.... it hurts... but I'll listen.... for you. Just talk to me John.... tell me what's wrong?"  
"Sherlock's...." It was on the tip of John's tongue to say....'pregnant....by Riddick'..... but saying it would make it part of a new bleak reality he wasn't ready for yet. "Today's the hearing.... for access.... to his son." The lie by omission made John's tongue feel heavy and awkward in his mouth .... yet Sherlock had lied for months.... would still be lying if Greg hadn't said something. He looked up to see Saul looking at him silently, brow furrowed in concentration....."Magnussen will be there."  
Saul knew what that meant..... he'd shared his bed with John and seen the nightmares. He'd heard the shouted words.... he'd learnt the hard way never to touch John no matter how much he was struggling in case he lashed out against the hands he still thought held him immobile and helpless as Sherlock was abused. "You're going with Sherlock?.... Of course you are."  
John stared at Saul. "Of course I am."  
Saul felt a stabbing pain of sharp, jealous bitterness. After everything they'd just done, Sherlock was still on John's mind, the resentful urge to twist the knife and deepen the wound between John and Sherlock was irresistible. "I'll call in and come with you John," he said evenly. "Sherlock has Riddick. Let me be there for you... you shouldn't have to do this on your own. There should be someone there who cares for you first."

"Look down please."  
Sherlock hated co-operating , knowing the bite at the nape of his neck would be on display. He felt the man's fingers ease down the neckline of the black barbers cape he was wearing and couldn't help the sharp anxious intake of breath he took.  
"My apologies..." The silver haired barber said politely. Professional. Neutral.  
Sherlock nodded shortly; desperate to get out of the chair and move away from the man whose sheer physical closeness was increasingly hard to tolerate. Why had he agreed to this, when Alan could have done it without any of this stress? Stupid Sherlock .... you idiot. Next time know your limits!  
Strange fingers on the back of his neck spanning the bite.... the ticklish sweep of a brush across his skin, skirting its sticky edges.... tiny fragments of clipped hair itching the sensitive welts of his bond bite...Sherlock shifted in the chair, fidgeting.... The word 'stop' on repeat inside his anxious mind, over and over as he clenched his teeth against the chance of saying it aloud .......

Alan Riddick felt like he was dressed for some managerial job interview in a supermarket or something. The sort of job that would drive him mad day by slow day.  
There was nothing wrong with the jacket or the trousers and the shirt was plain enough but they didn't sit right on him. He felt like Mycroft's hired muscle, all brawn and no brains and he knew it.  
Compared to Mycroft Holmes expensive three piece suit he looked cheap and he felt it, fidgeting with his tie awkwardly.  
The barber had left but Sherlock hadn't come out of the bedroom yet.... Alan wanted to go in and check on the Omega, hating Sherlock being out of sight but under Mycroft's ever watchful eye that felt unwise.

Sherlock had bought a Brunello Cucinelli jumper online from Harrods that was ridiculously baggy in an acceptably expensive designer way, it had cost so much he'd blinked at the screen but Mycroft hadn't even looked up from his paper before handing over his own credit card for Sherlock to use.  
Bond Court posed a whole new sartorial challenge.... you couldn't turn up in a Nike hoodie....  
The pregnancy trousers he'd ordered had only arrived this morning. According to the website they should look like normal slim fit trousers and the elastic waist panel was well hidden..... but he hadn't had time to try them on yet and there was no second option if they didnt fit. He couldn't help laughing at the idea of coming out of the room in his expensive sweater and some of his baggy tracksuit bottoms to tell Mycroft he was ready.... he stopped laughing only when he realised he sounded more hysterical and fearful than amused. Calm down you idiot!

At first he thought the trousers seemed huge but a second desperate glance revealed a hidden elasticated band with holes and buttons that mean he could pull it tight to fit him. As he tightened it Neep kicked with fast little legs.... "That's enough of that." Sherlock said. "Just you listen to me. We can't let Charles know you are in there so you have to stay still. I need you to hide .... just please, don't kick me, don't do anything like you did the other day.....Please be good. Please be still.... You don't know Charles like I do, you'll never hurt anyone ... but he'd hurt you if he could. He'd like that..."  
Sherlock touched the compact rise of his belly once then held his hand out and watched hopelessly as it shook.

Mycroft stared at yet another page of The Times even though nothing of what he was staring at held his attention as acutely as waiting for Sherlock to emerge did.  
From across the room he watched the tremor in Alan Riddick's hand without comment.  
The sudden opening of the bedroom door came almost as a shock.  
Riddick opened his mouth to say how beautiful Sherlock looked, his skin pale as porcelain against the rich navy blue of the sweater that made the silver in his lovely inky blue eyes sparkle like stars in a blue shot night sky but he swallowed the compliment back, looking sadly at the brutally shorn hair and knowing automatically that Sherlock had done it hoping to make himself less attractive to Magnussen.  
"Alan?" Sherlock asked for his opinion. " Do I look ok?" His worried, fretful eyes fixed on Alan's face.  
"You'll do lad. Aye ....you'll do." Alan said matter of factly.

 

"Well... can you tell?" Sherlock needed the truth. "Can you tell I'm pregnant?"  
Mycroft was the first to speak, looking at his younger brother's nervous face.... "No... but this plan is still foolhardy Sherlock. Don't for a moment think I approve. There is every possibility Charles will simply scent the hormonal changes for himself. You cannot hide your condition under oversized clothing forever and hope to fool him."  
Sherlock looked at Alan's steady reassuring presence before answering.... "Eventually.... I know that.... Before we break the bond ....just not before we win access and I can see Aleksander again."  
Mycroft looked at Alan's grimly set face without any tell tale reaction and forced himself to smile at Sherlock, hating the highly strung tension he could see in Sherlock's young face. "Very well brother mine. Shall we go? The cars are outside."  
"In a minute." Sherlock said. "I just want to.." he faltered to a stop.  
"Sherlock...? Whatever is wrong? " Mycroft was immediately concerned by Sherlock's helpless inability to talk.  
"Everything you've done. All of it. Whichever way things go....Thank you." Sherlock said emotionally and before Mycroft could protest Sherlock threw his arms around him in a fiercely loving hug, his head tucked against Mycroft's shoulder.  
Mycroft blinked back the traitorous signs of a emotional response that threatened to overwhelm and unman him as he patted Sherlock's back awkwardly.... He knew Alan had seen it.  
Sherlock released him, tactfully avoiding looking at his face. "I'll just tell Mrs Hudson we're going" he said.

Left together with Alan Riddick Mycroft sought for something to say... "He seems to be coping well. Better than I expected."  
"Aye, though I guess we won't know till he comes face to face with Magnussen..." Alan sighed. "The thanks are from both of us .... I thought I'd leave Sherlock to do the actual hugging though. Wouldn't want to crumple my suit." Riddick said with a surprisingly disarming smile.  
"Quite so." Mycroft said. The iceman fully back in control. Then... "He was always far better at that sort of thing than I was. I was never one for physical affection, I was never demonstrative. "  
Riddick said nothing even though he knew otherwise.

The baying shouts of the press pack rang in Sherlock's ears as the car with its tinted windows pulled away from the kerb.  
Mycroft watched as Sherlock reached for Alan's hand and held on.

The four courts of the Bond Court were housed in a white stone building covered in heraldic symbolism. Entry meant driving through a narrow dark passage way that had originally been built for horse and carriage. The car bumping over the raised cobbles.  
Mycroft saw Alan glance up, awed by the ornately carved medieval beauty of the ancient building itself.  
Sherlock's looked past Mycroft to the steps outside the Court their challenge would be heard in and Mycroft watched his face and could pinpoint to the exact second the instant Sherlock saw Magnussen and his dark suited legal team waiting there.....


	31. Praying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock battles with his fear to enter an unfriendly Court and face Magnussen....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You rattle more than a can o' nabs....you make more noise than a can of apple cores .  
> Shift....move.  
> Owt'....out.
> 
> Mycroft's quote about sin is based on an original quote by George Elliott....its tweaked but that was my inspiration....  
> Blue the track is Praying by Kesha.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm dedicating this update to the most loving, solid , kind and gorgeous guy I have ever met....to Adam...my own Riddick. Happy first Pride sexy !

Sherlock stared wordlessly out the tinted window of the car and took several shallow inhalations, suddenly feeling as though it was harder to breathe as his chest tightened.  
Charles stood with his back to them but as Mycroft's car drew to a smooth halt and the press reacted he turned expectantly to stare and Mycroft watched his brother's pale , long fingered hand clutch tightly at Alan's, the bodyguard turned his head sharply to see what the matter was and drew in a low steady breath as he spotted Magnussen.  
"He came then." Alan said and Mycroft realised that Alan and Sherlock must have discussed the remote hope that Charles would let his legal team represent him at this first initial appearance without making a personal appearance.  
"I knew he would," Sherlock sounded as though he wanted to be sick.  
"You alright? Gonna throw up?" Alan checked.  
Sherlock swallowed determinedly. "No."  
Alan grinned. "That's my lad."  
Mycroft was startled to see Riddick raise his brother's hand up to his mouth and press the traditional Alpha/Elite Omega kiss of a dominus to Sherlock's knuckles. 

Mycroft exited the car first. Acutely aware of the flashing cameras surrounding him and the police men forming a cordon with linked arms, to keep the path up towards the huge arch that led into the First Court clear.  
A number of Elite Alpha stood in tacit support on Magnussen's side of the stone steps, making their disapproval of Mycroft's actions clear... Magnussen's cold gaze swept over him and past him, waiting for Sherlock.  
Aric Weber stepped out from among a much smaller group in his long black legal robes, nodded affably to Mycroft and waited patiently. His eyes looked to the chaffeur driven car that still waited at the kerbside. The case could well fall apart here on the Bond Court steps if Sherlock couldn't bring himself to leave the safe anonymity of the car..... he found himself holding his breath.  
Alan Riddick got out of the car next and stood close to it, already in bodyguard mode, eyes scanning for threats to the safety of the boy he loved.  
Magnussen's look of undiluted hatred saw Alan unmoved, leaning a shielding arm against the roof of the car and forming a protective triangle in between the car door and the vehicle for Sherlock to step into as the Omega emerged.  
The camera flashes lit up in endless bright explosions amid a deafening cacophany of shutter clicks as Sherlock swung one lean leg out of the car and stood up... his pale beautiful face staring out emptily at the shouting press, trapped and exposed, as they yelled his name over and over before he turned his back on them to face Charles.

Mycroft watched as Magnussen eyes locked hungrily onto his brother with an unsettling mix of lust and resentful hate.  
Sherlock looked up and his inky blue eyes met Magnussen's glacial stare across the barrier of the car.  
It was Sherlock who broke eye contact nervously and looked away and down first, when he did so there was a viscious satisfaction on Charles face that made Mycroft's skin crawl.  
To Charles left , Alexei laughed and said something to Magnussen that made him give a tight violent smile in response. It faded as Alan Riddick put the palm of his hand low on the small of Sherlock's back , just over the tempting rise of his arse and kept it there as he shepherded the Omega away from Magnussen and towards Mycroft and Weber.

"We need to get the lad inside," Alan muttered at Mycroft urgently. Charles hungry stare was still fixed on Sherlock .  
"We have to wait. Charles must enter first, as Sherlock's dominus its traditionally his right." Aric answered, his eyes still on Magnussen's reaction. Elite Omega had been murdered on the steps of the Bond Court before, the very steps they stood on were steeped in blood. There were police all around them yet still the unsettling onimance of a very real threat could be felt.  
"What's he bloody waiting for!" Riddick swore.  
Then the slow jeering handclapping began and rose in volume quickly , the traditional sound of Elite Alpha contempt rising and rebounding in the large stone quad, getting louder and louder, until it was a wall of sound.  
Sherlock paled, his eyes quick and nervous as they darted between his brother and Riddick's tense face.  
"Don't give him the satisfaction of a visible response Sherlock." Mycroft said his icy hauteur barely covering his own shock at the open disrespect of his peers.  
"Bunch of nasty bastards." Alan swore with a savage quietness.  
Sherlock could only hear the ugly hate behind the beliigerent, dismissive sound.... 

Aric dismissed the confrontational protest first, turning his back to it and focusing solely on Sherlock. " An empty vessel makes more noise... that is the saying Sherlock , is it not?"  
"Yes." Sherlock looked stressed as his gaze moved to Weber's familiar bearded face. Aric's tie of choice for the occasion was pale blue and covered in bright orange koi carp... as always it was brightly cheerful if a little lurid. Sherlock stared at it mindlessly, his face blank....  
"Sherlock....?" Mycroft called his brother back to the here and now.  
Sherlock moved his thumb to the inside of his clenched fist and squeezed hard enough with his nails to make it hurt and bring his mind back to heel. "I'm ok..."  
He remembered what Alan had told him in those brief , intense moments after Mycroft had got out first , leaving Sherlock and Alan alone in the car outisde the Court...."You can do this Sherlock. You've got this. Don't let that bastard get the better of you."  
Sherlock looked at the open concern in every face surrounding him.... took a deep breath in and gave a shaky sigh as he breathed it out..... "It's going to take more than some stupid noise to shut me up," he said with fragile determination.

Aric Weber had never seen the Alpha side of the court so disproportionately full . Every seat on Charles Magnussen's side of the huge room with its Doric columns was taken and several Alpha were standing along the walls at the back of the huge cream walled court with its detailed stucco ceiling and moldings .  
By contrast Sherlock's side of the court room was half empty.... there were seats but nobody moved to take them and sit down.  
Aric began to lead the way down to their seats at the very front.  
Sherlock hesitated and looked for Mycroft. "Was it like this the first time when you were here?" He asked in a low voice.... not wanting to be overheard.  
Mycroft nodded. The memories still humiliating after all these years. "I don't recall.... Perhaps," he said and Sherlock gave him a sharp look of awareness and moved a little closer.

"Looks like a feuding marriage." Alan quipped dryly. "One side of the church full to bursting and the other empty enough for tumbleweed."  
Mycroft considered it an appropiate analogy.  
"Least there's somebody on our side of the room." Sherlock said and Mycroft looked towards the front of the court room to see exactly who that someone was.  
In the front row , just behind the huge mahogany desk where Aric would sit facing the Judges, with Mycroft and Sherlock, there were four people sat in splendid isolation amid the rows of empty chairs.  
Greg Lestrade. Mrs Hudson. John ..... and Saul Jefferson.

Mrs Hudson was wearing the weirdest hat.... Sherlock couldn't take his eyes off it. He'd never seen her wear it before.  
"Mink ... probably farmed and Russian in origin" Mycroft said sotto voce. "Kept of course in a hatbox in her bedroom...." He tempted Sherlock with the incomplete deduction.... anything to distract him from Magnussen's threatening presence at the front of the right hand side of the court as the man turned to await Sherlock.  
"It's lost a little fur around the edges." Sherlock said weakly. He was so pale he looked bloodless. "Does she stroke it or brush it too much do you think?"  
"Quite clearly both, Sherlock... do pay attention to the wear pattern of the pelts. Top and edges." Mycroft said patiently.  
Sherlock looked desperately to Alan......  
Riddick's gave both Holmes brothers a wide impudent grin.... "The hat is it? I thought she'd stuck her head in a dead cat."  
Sherlock snorted with inappropiate laughter despite the constant tension.  
It was so well done, distracting Sherlock perfectly from the sea of unfriendly Elite Alpha faces staring judgementally at them as they moved through them, that Mycroft acknowledged Riddick's help with a nod of thankful approval.

Greg stared at the dark blackish wood of the raised Medieval structure where the judges were to sit. It towered over the courtroom under row upon row of tiny, square lead glass windows that flooded the room with natural light . Ornately carved , on either side of the judges seats, carved and painted heraldic beasts tore at the flesh of lesser animals... and Greg saw the Holmes family crest of a dark pack of hounds tearing open the soft underbelly of a terrified deer as it braced itself against the enviscerating onslaught .  
"Goodness .... the last time I saw something at all like this I was in Vatican city." Mrs Hudson said to John." All very impressive but imagine the dusting .... you'd be there with the polish and a cloth all day long...it'd get in every nook and cranny and that gilding can rub off. I had it on a mirrored bed one time.."  
John smiled absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on Sherlock's slow move down the middle of the court towards the front and closer step by step to Magnussen who had risen to his feet.....

There was a small group of five Elite Alpha, backs turned firmly towards Sherlock, blocking the way forward and Alan steeled himself for a confrontation and saw John moving forward, with the same worry for Sherlock's safety clear on his face.  
"Sherlock...." The small group of dark suited Alpha split and divided and revealed Count Alexei at its core. "Mycroft...."  
"Count Alexei...." The greeting from both Elite Alpha was coldly disdainful.  
Sherlock stopped and took an uneasy step back as Alexei took his own step forward only to find himself blocked by Alan's broad arm thrust across in an immovable physical barrier and by Mycroft who stepped in front of his younger brother.  
Alexei raised a sardonic eyebrow at Riddick's intercession. "Still playing the guard dog role? Yet a dog is more loyal to its master than you have proved to be. Your very presence here is an insult."  
"Good , glad it bloody offends you."Alan said bluntly, his jaw clenched. " I know where my loyalty lies.... it's with Sherlock  
"And he only had to spread his legs and act the common whore for you to realise that..." Alexei was crude, hoping to provoke a response that would see Riddick removed from the Court and Sherlock's side.  
"You dirty mouthed bastard." Riddick swore and every Elite Alpha head that had heard him turned.  
No sooner had he spoken than there was a disturbance and Count Alexei jerked foward before he exclaimed in pain and twisted around, his lean aristocratic face alive with anger.  
"Sorry about that..... elbow in the kidneys... I tripped."John said with a complete absence of any contrition....  
"That was no accident!" Alexei seethed. "You dare to strike me a low blow like that, when my back was turned, you common dog...."  
Court security was almost upon them.  
John tilted his head back, a dangerous smile lighting up his face. "A low blow would be right into your balls wouldn't it?" The warning was clear..... "I've said it was an accident...."  
Alexei confronted Mycroft.... Elite Alpha to Elite Alpha. "You should have more care for your reputation and for that of your line. You have no hope of winning this absurd farce of a trial.... you throw your good name away in a futile attempt to deny validity to a binding bond.... Sherlock belongs to Charles...."  
"You should be concerned for your own good name." Mycroft said with a cool collected arrogance that bordered on contempt. "Consorting with paid whores, indulging in corrupt vices...." He smiled.... " No evil dooms us more hopelessly than the one we love, continue in and make no effort to escape from."  
The security was either side of them now....stepping in between both factions....

"Be very careful," Alexei snarled. "I came to greet Sherlock, the Omega of my closest friend, as tradition demands and I find myself insulted...?"  
Riddick spoke, his accent markedly different to everyone else in the packed courtroom. "You rattle like a can o' nabs....Shift your arse owt' way...."  
Sherlock laughed.... a bitter, lonely sound. "Last time we met you spat in my face then...." he stopped, overcome with pain at the memory...."masturbated over me.... I don't want your welcome. You make me sick...."  
Alexei focused on the Omega only. "Charles WILL win and you.... you sorry, sorrowful whore....will be returned to him ...."  
Sherlock's voice was low but forceful....."Then I hope you like corpses because I will die before I let any of you touch me again....."


	32. Fickle Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The legal challenge begins....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Actori incumbit onus probatio'....the Latin translates as 'On the plaintiff rests the proving."
> 
> Alpha Legate...the Judge with the balance of power.
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Fickle Game by Amber Run.

"All rise!" The court usher knocked the long gold tipped staff he carried five times on the floor boards and raised his voice ensuring the traditional shout cut clearly through the hubbub of the crowded court room....the swirl of voices and movement ceased abruptly..... He raised the staff a second time and bought the heavy metal tipped end down onto the wide boards for a second time, before shouting out across the court room again, loud as a town crier.... "All be upstanding for Justice!"  
Mycroft couldn't help but see a dark irony in the words having found precious little justice here before.....  
Sherlock moved to his feet with an immediate natural grace... ignoring the heavier drag of his womb against the muscles that supported it and looked up at the faces of the men who would held the legal power to change everything as they took their seats.

In the middle sat the Alpha Legate... Lord Aubyn Innsbruck... silver haired and close to retirement, the heavy silver chain and ermine tipped scarlet robes he wore seemed heavy enough on his frail and ageing body to drag him down into the grave, yet Mycroft knew the man had one of the sharpest legal minds in England.

To his right and left the two other judges that were to make up the judical panel were taking their seats.  
Mycroft watched the shaking of early onset Parkinson's as Mungo Dromoch poured himself a glass of water from the goblet in front of him, spilling several shaky crystal droplets over the wood and gestured impatiently at the court usher to deal with it. The Laird was notoriously traditional, head of a huge sprawling clan, father of 13 children , widowed twice... his latest Omega bondmate was 20 and already fecundly rounded, with a belly so massive it could only mean a multiple birth.

Nigel Bunyon.... known at Eton as Bunty .... his sweaty jolly face already shining in the heat of his legal robes. Bonded, six children, a huge crumbling pile of an ancestral home in Devon. Lover of cricket. Owner of a pack of overweight labrador dogs and well trained field spaniels that he used for hunting. Friend of the Royal family since childhood, new member of the Diogenes Club....

"Whom so ever would come before this Court seeking Justice place your right palm upon the written word of God and plead." The words were unchanged and timeless.  
Mycroft took the prescribed step forward as plaintiff and placed his hand on the huge leather bound mediaeval Bible that was chained to a rough hewn oaken stand in the form of a cross. Aware of Magnussen's proximity Mycroft held his breath to avoid contaminating his lungs with the sharply dominant scent of Charles Magnussen as the man moved to place his fingers, barely touching the edge of the open vellum page with its Latin handwritten script and gilded pages.......  
"Mycroft of the family Holmes... I stand here. I seek justice for an Omega dependant...my brother William Sherlock Holmes ...... access to the sole son of his body and a irrevocable dissolution of the bonded match in which the child was conceived."

A low disapproving hiss filled the court and died away respectfully as Magnussen spoke..."Charles Augustus of the family Magnussen....I stand here for my son and heir, Aleksander Henrik, to demand the return of the child's mother .... and the restoration of my bonded property to whom I am entitled under law... William Sherlock Holmes."  
There was a loud tut from behind Sherlock.... "Property indeed! You nasty man!".... as Mrs Hudson had her say and John saw the corner of Mycroft's mouth twitch before he controllled himself....  
Sir Aubyn Innsbruck bought down the gavel to demand silence before he intoned the traditional Latin pronouncement that would begin legal challenge.... "Actori incumbit onus probatio."

 

"Gentlemen, I trust there will be no objection if we plan on ruling on child visitation and access first? We'll move to address the issue of bond severance once the child's interests have been served." The Alpha Legate addressed both solicitors jointly. There were no objections. "Very well .Call your first witness to the stand Mr Weber."  
" William Sherlock Holmes."

Aric Weber waited for Sherlock to calm... the Omega stared out at him with wide fretful eyes from the witness stand , a marked tremor shaking his hands so badly as he'd sworn his oath he'd tucked them out of sight immediately.  
"Take some time Sherlock.... it's an intimidating place to be seated isn't it? With everyone's eyes fixed on you. " Aric said with a kind smile.  
Sherlock nodded. "Just a bit."  
Aric nodded. "I'm going to ask you a lot of questions and all I need you to do is answer as truthfully as you can. Put like that it sounds simple does it not?"  
The Omega took a shallow breath..."Yes... maybe. It depends on the questions."  
The lawyer smiled...."How old are you Sherlock?"  
"19.... 20 almost."  
" Your brother Mycroft is 7 years older than you?" Aric knew the answer but the purpose was to make Sherlock relax.  
Sherlock looked at Mycroft. "Yes."  
"And who made up your family before you were bonded?"  
"Mycroft... my parents and Sherrinford."  
"An older brother?"  
"The eldest." Sherlock answered.  
"Both older brothers were Alpha?"  
"Yes."  
"You were in fact the sole Omega born into your family for generations?" Aric said.  
"Yes." Sherlock said warily.

Aric changed course. "You grew up in the country? On the family estate? Did you like that?"  
"Yes. The gardens are beautiful... Near the house they are formal but there's a maze, walled gardens, carp ponds and a wood. Father shot pheasants so the gamekeepers reared them there.. and there's white deer. They've been kept since 1188 , the same white deer are on the family crest. "  
"So... lots for you to explore? Your own little world. Did you have a set boundary?"  
"Not to begin with... the estate is walled and gated. I could go where ever I liked inside the walls except out on the ponds and I could do that if Mycroft was there to unlock the boathouse and row the boat."  
"Tell me about your brothers.... How was Sherrinford as a big brother? Did he teach you... did he spend time with you ....?"  
Sherlock took a minute before answering, avoiding any criticism of his elder brother...."He was away a lot..."  
"He died tragically in an accident ski-ing off piste when you were 9?"  
"Yes. He broke his neck. They bought his body home and kept it until every one who worked on the estate had filed past and paid their respects." Sherlock looked upset.  
Aric gave Sherlock some time to collect himself.

" What sort of a brother was Mycroft?"Aric asked , his voice neutral.  
Sherlock's anxious eyes were back on his brother "Kind... he taught me a lot .... he told me a story every night.... I annoyed him sometimes... I wouldn't let him alone when he was studying or busy and he'd say he was locking the door to his room but he always came out and did something later."  
"Would you say he was a good brother."  
Sherlock was sure. " The best."

Aric looked down at his paperwork...."And your parents? Lets talk about them a little?"  
" There's not much to say. They were away a lot when I was growing up." Sherlock looked for Riddick for reassurance....  
"Travelling or on business?" Aric called the Omega's focus back calmly.  
"Travelling... they went away for almost two years once.... 'chasing the sun' Mummy called it."  
Aric nodded. "Winter can be a gloomy time of year."  
"That's what Mummy said... winter made him depressed."  
Aric nodded. "How would that show?"  
Sherlock looked ill at ease with the topic. "He'd stay in bed a lot... sleeping... in his room. We weren't allowed in there. He was ill a lot. Noise made him feel worse so we couldn't play that side of the house or gardens."

Aric nodded as though he understood how that was. "Your father.... he was still home even when your Mother was unwell? He spent time with you?"  
Sherlock gave a flat unelaborate answer without additional information..."Sometimes."  
"Fathers can be demanding when it comes to their sons.... "Aric probed gently. "My own insisted I take fencing lessons... it took me years to enjoy the sport as I do now...."  
"He didn't have expectations." Sherlock reacted instantly. "Not of me."  
"No...?" Aric sought to probe for the truth another way.  
"People think differently when you are Omega." Sherlock answered.  
"Was he overly protective?" Aric asked, looking down and leafing through a pile of paperwork in front of him.  
"No."Sherlock replied shortly.  
"As the only Omega child in the Holmes family for generations did he indulge you? Spoil you?"  
Sherlock was silent. Clearly uncomfortable with the topic.  
"We need a verbal reply boy not a shake of your pretty head.." Mungo Dromoch growled from the judges bench....  
Magnussen smiled.  
Sherlock's eyes moved to the big boned , heavily bearded Judge and away from him equally fast. "No.... he didn't indulge me."

Aric looked up. Patient as ever. "Have you ever played the three word game Sherlock?"  
"I don't know what that is." Sherlock sounded frustrated.  
"Ah.... it's very simple. I ask you a question and you must answer in three words..... Three words to describe something or someone and only three..."  
"Objection....what is the point of this game!" Charles legal team were quick to object.  
"The point is to expand a one word reply to something a little more revealing. Family background is important .... If the court would bear with me?" Aric said placidly.  
"Objection over ruled but don't try my patience Herr Weber." The Alpha Legate intervened.

Sherlock was frowning.  
" Lets try an easy question first....three words to decribe the court you find yourself in Sherlock?"  
"Intimidating.... Timeless... Eyeballs" Sherlock replied.  
"Eyeballs?" The Legate interrupted with the question.  
"Eyes ... all looking at me."Sherlock explained.  
"I see...." He gave the Omega a friendly glance.

Aric asked a new question...."So... three words to describe Mycroft?"  
"Clever. "Sherlock hesitated."Observant. Responsible."  
"And the same.... Three words.... for your Mother?"  
"Tired. Ill. Fussy."  
Mycroft watched Sherlock closely as he spoke.  
"And your brother Sherringford?"  
" Favourite.... Loved...Athletic."  
"And your father....Siger?"  
Sherlock swallowed nervously His voice faded as he spoke...." Strict.... I don't have any other words for him I want to say."

"Objection! Siger Holmes is not here to defend his good character!" Charles lawyer was on his feet.  
"I'll drop the line of questioning.... if you would permit one more question that does not involve Siger Holmes , your Honour?" Aric said mildly.  
"Very well, I'll allow it but keep it short and to the point." The Alpha Legate said tersely.

"What of yourself Sherlock.... if I asked you for words to define who you think you are? Three negatives and three positives? Could you do that?"  
Sherlock looked uncertain.... "I don't know."  
"Try?" Aric waited.  
"I don't want to..."  
"Try...."  
Sherlock fidgeted in his seat. " Insomniac. Weird. Too thin....I'm sorry , that was four words..."  
"No matter." Aric smiled encouragingly...."And the positives?"  
"Those were the positives".... Sherlock said faintly and a ripple of amused Alpha laughter spread round the crowded Court.  
" We'll come back to this topic." Weber said thoughtfully and made a note.

"What interests do you have Sherlock? "  
"Lots of things.... reading, science... I've a microspcope and some laboratory equipment... for experiments.... I like researching.... learning facts.... solving puzzles. Learning about how crimes are solved."  
Charles was staring at Sherlock , his eyes fixed on the Omega.... Sherlock looked down and stopped talking...  
"You play an instrument if I recall correctly?" Aric prompted.  
"Violin .... I have a Stradivarious, Myroft bought it for me... and piano....we had one at home in the music room." Sherlock was still looking down as he spoke.  
"Speak up boy! Stop mumbling!" Mungo corrected the Omega brusquely and Sherlock's head jerked back up obediently.

Aric moved closer to Sherlock and leant an arm on the witness stand. "You speak several languages fluently do you not?"  
"French... Danish.... Finnish.... some Russian and German....... and Latin."  
"And you dance ballet? Tell us why you enjoy that?"  
"Yes... I love dancing. You become strong but stay flexible. The body can move in so many ways, children can do it easily but for most people as they age they lose flexiblity because they stop moving and stretching the muscles."  
"At home .... you had books to read , time for your hobbies? Time to learn new interests?" Aric asked.  
"Yes."  
Another one word answer. Weber hesitated..."Were your interests always supported and fostered by your family?"  
" Mostly. Mycroft gave me a microscope and a science set and text books... There was a library at home.... My parents paid for language, dance and music lessons..... for private tutors."  
"In fact you learnt so quickly and did so well in the entrance examinations for public school that you were placed into an academic year two full years above your own age from the beginning?"  
"Yes..." Sherlock answered and John smiled as Sherlock looked towards him as he knew he would....

"Were you excited to go away to boarding school Sherlock?"  
"I was nervous." Sherlock was honest.  
"The first school you attended was an all Omega boarding school was it not?"  
"Yes... Father chose it."  
"And did you enjoy your time there? Did you make friends?"  
"I made one good friend....Victor.He took ballet classes too. He liked a lot of the same things."  
"Can you tell me what some of those things you both liked were Sherlock?"  
"Hieroglyphics.... we made our own alphabet and so we could write to each other and nobody else could read the letters."  
"You were close friends?" Aric enquired kindly.  
"Yes. For almost a year."  
"And were you in classes together? "  
"Yes." Sherlock looked nervous as he took a mouthful of water.

"The year you turned 14 was the year of your father's death?"  
" Yes." Sherlock took another gulp of water.  
"You had some time away from school with your family following your loss of course?"  
"My loss....?" Sherlock sounded confused.  
"The death of your father...." Aric spelt it out clearly.. all to aware of Sherlock's strange reaction as the Legate watched the Omega closely.  
"Five days . Then I went back to school."  
"That seems like a very short time frame. Are you sure that is right?"  
"Yes. I'm almost sure."  
" When you went back to boarding school did the school offer you any grief counselling? "  
Sherlock shook his head ...."No."  
"Did you talk about it with your Mother , your brother Mycroft or with this friend you'd made, Victor?"  
" Mummy was ill....we didn't talk about it. Not really. Mycroft was in London working. He was busy. We wrote letters."

"Let's move on a few short months and review.... You've lost your father recently but you like school well enough and you have a brother you are close too and a good friend in Victor. Would he have listened if you had needed it.....?"  
"Yes. I think so."  
" Objection! Pure supposition! "Charles lawyer barked out the words.  
" Upheld....Unless you care to rephrase your question Mr Weber?"  
" Thank you ...that won't be necessary.... Yet you moved schools mid term? This time to a mixed boarding school of Alpha and Omega.....Whose idea was that move?" Aric waited for the answer.  
Sherlock took another mouthful of water.... "Charles Magnussen's..."  
"And why did that decision rest with him now Sherlock? Why was it so important that you make that change?"  
"Because we were bonded and the new school allowed him conjugal visits during heats." Sherlock said bleakly.


	33. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock lashes out after a horrendous day on the witness stand....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning...Sherlock talks about the miscarriage he made happen and the first time he was raped...nothing graphic but it's there so just be aware.
> 
> Knackered...old and beaten up.
> 
> The track is Mercy Loote Remix by Shawn Mendes..

Mrs Hudson had made tea.... a whole large pot sat on the table steaming upwards through the china spout, all the heat condensed into one tiny heated mist of scalding hot air. Nobody except Mycroft had moved to pour a cup and she'd lasted barely ten minutes of listening to the tirade of Sherlock's belligerent, scatter gun fury before she crumbled into a teary well meaning hysteria and had to be escorted downstairs by Saul.  
As she went down the stairs John could hear her saying.... "That horrible man.... Those things he did to Sherlock...it's all his fault...all of it!!"

"We should..."Mycroft paused as his brother made a abrupt, frustrated shift in his chair.  
" Don't... just don't! If you say 'talk' I'm going to throw the milk jug at your head..." Sherlock promised darkly.  
Mycroft's sigh sounded like he'd dredged it up from the darkest reaches of his lungs.  
"Sherlock.... It's not his fault." Alan's voice broke the stiff silence.  
"No...? Let's all have fucking tea then shall we? Mycroft ...you can be mother! You'd like that!" Sherlock snapped the angry words out at Mycroft at speed. "Shall I get some biscuits? Everything's nice and normal here... is that how we're playing it? Could you be any more fucking stereotypical brother!"

"Christ almighty.." Alan shook his head wearily. "Will you stop swearing? It's late .... we've all had a long bloody day..."  
"Sorry ...." Sherlock was incandescently angry, past all reason. "Would you like to go to bed?.... I can suck your cock if you'd like ... relieve some of your stress.... as it's been such a bad day for you?"  
"That's enough!" Alan raised his voice, reacting to the goad for the first time that evening. "You stop that dirty talk right now!"  
Sherlock stared back at the Alpha, challenging his dominance with a reckless stubborn frailty.....Alan gave him a long level look...broken only when the Omega looked away.  
"Fine......"

"This isn't helping anyone." Greg broke the tension.  
Sherlock snorted derisively and went back on the attack...."Maybe it's 'helping' me... or don't I matter so long as everybody else stays safely inside their comfort zone?"  
"Sherlock.... please. If it would help to talk..." Mycroft began to speak......  
"It's not 'our' comfort zone that's the problem is it?" John's flat voice cut over Mycroft, showing his exhausted lack of patience for any more pretence. "We're here and we're here for you.... stop deflecting. We can see you're hurting."

Sherlock span around in his chair, a spitfire of fury, tightly wound and accusatory..... "You've sat through one fucking day's evidence John and don't think I didn't see all your horrified faces!" He started to laugh, sarcastic and embittered and Mycroft winced guiltily at the sound. "You're here for me? Where were you all... every hour of every day ... of every year.... from when I woke up until I went to bed.... When it was all actually happening! Where were all of you! You listened to one day of it!"  
"Why are we getting it in the neck?" John answered back, his eyes dark with an maelstrom of troubled emotion. "He was the one person there who could have helped you and didn't! But you won't blame _him _will you Sherlock?" He jabbed a thumb at Alan.......  
Sherlock made a choked sound and ran..... the sound of the bathroom door slamming reverated through the small hallway.__

____

Alan got to his feet....."I'll go speak to him."  
"You do that... We all know how much he'll listen to you."John scoffed, his mouth tight with anger, staring with angry concern at Mycroft's face as the Elite Alpha pressed hard fingers over his forehead against the throbbing agony of his splitting headache.  
"Screw you...I'm trying to help."Alan said tersely.  
"I think we need something a lot stronger than tea..."Greg said with a glum look at the pot.

"It's me.... open the door lad." Alan leant his face against the wood to speak, expecting a mouthful of savage abuse. He was surprised when the key turned in its lock almost instantly and reached for the handle before the Omega could change his mind. "I'm coming in...."  
Sherlock was sat on the floor , knees pulled up as close to his chest as he could get them with a baby belly.... face wet with tears.  
"Ahh lad.... Come here love!" Alan lowered himself awkwardly down to sit on the floor.... feeling the slightly damp bathmat underneath his arse and hoping his backside wouldn't look soggy when he got back up again.  
Sherlock shifted sideways to lean sadly against him and Alan turned and pulled him up and onto his lap and into his arms to cradle the Omega against his chest like an overgrown child, Sherlock's long legs sprawling out over the bathroom floor as Alan rocked him....

Greg had taken the tray away and come back with a bottle of Jamaican rum and three glasses. He wouldn't have taken Riddick as a dark rum man.  
Mycroft sniffed the dark aromatic liquid in his glass before raising it to his lips.  
John gulped his measure back and poured himself a generous refill. "It had to be said. He's letting him off scot free."  
Greg knew John well enough to hear the guilt under the justification. 

"Here..." Greg lay a hand on Mycroft's arm and opened his hand to reveal two white paracetamol.  
The look of gratitude Mycroft gave him as he swallowed them both down with a mouthful of rum made Greg feel surprisingly protective.  
"There's nowhere to hide on a witness stand."Greg wasn't sure he'd made enough sense but Mycroft looked at him sharply and nodded.  
"Humiliation .... it's such a vile emotion..." Mycroft said with unhappy resignation. 

"He's not wrong in what he said.... John." Alan let the admission hang in the air, hugging Sherlock's pure profile closer to his heart.  
"He had no right to say it." Sherlock barely spoke above a choked whisper, his voice throaty and tearful.  
"You know he did.... It's fucking true. I could have... should have ... done something and I never bloody did." Riddick's mouth twisted, angry at himself. "It's all gonna come out now...soon as they get me on the stand." He was resigned to the exposure.  
Sherlock pushed closer. "It's me it happened to.... not John.... I get to decide how I feel . Nobody else."

Alan was pragmatic. "You know the footage they'll have .... the things I did to you.... it'll all be on camera." The pinnings against floors and walls... the lifting.... the shakings...everything...  
"Stop it... Stop feeling guilty." Sherlock said fiercely. "Charles did worse things than you ever did."  
Alan sighed with pent up guilt.... "With my help."  
"You and everybody else who worked there. You didn't do any of it alone." Sherlock's leg was shaking and Alan pulled him into his chest more until it stopped.

"I was in charge lad... You begged me not to put you in his rooms ...."Alan heard Sherlock breathe in sharply.  
"He'd already raped me 9 times in four days before you and me even met." Sherlock said , his voice stripped of all youth, white and brittle as sunbleached bone.  
"The heat suite. Your first heat.." Alan remembered that first morning.... the bright red blood and the helpless, hurt way Sherlock had swayed when he'd sat up.... A dull nausea twisted at his stomach.  
"I never wanted any of it... not Charles, not the bond.... Not even Aleksander..." Sherlock drew in a sharp inhale. "You were the one good thing...."

Alan looked down and shook his head. "It's not much."  
"Yes it is..." Sherlock was insistent. "You were the closest person I had there to a friend... and you know it. People arent all black and white... they're shades of grey. I'm not on the side of the angels either... I killed my own baby. A baby just like Neep.... I did that and I'm not even sorry because at least that baby isn't alive and there with Charles ... having to live every day wishing it was dead!"

Alan's growl was a pained raw sound ripped from his throat. "Jesus .... I've fucked up so badly...."  
Sherlock's voice was shaky. "You've made it right too... "  
Alan stared down at Sherlock. "I've hurt you."  
Sherlock rejected it.... "Look at your jaw, teeth more clenched on the right side.... that means commitment, you'll stand by me no matter what. You're incapable of hurting me Alan.... and sometimes that scares me.... because sometimes lashing out and hurting is all I want to do. Sometimes I feel like I could tear the whole world apart and it would never be enough destruction ...."

"That what that was in there? You lashing out?" Alan asked carefully.  
"Yes..... because they only had to hear about it and they have no right to act like that's hard when I'm the one Charles did it all too." Sherlock felt so confused , unable to find the words for the swirling sickening shame he felt on the witness stand...."I'd to stand there and say what he did.... and how it made me feel.... and we get back here and nobody says anything...."  
"They didn't have the words .... that's all...." Riddick tried to explain.  
"And I do? I've to stand there and look at people I don't even know and say how Charles was.... I've to say .... everything he did to me.... I'm the one that has to do that....not them!" he fell silent. "It's like dredging a canal.... on the surface I look clean but underneath there's all this black filth and now its all being pulled up and everyone can see that's me .... "  
"That's not you.... That's shit that was done to you but it's not bloody you! " Alan sought to find words good enough. "You want to know what I see? The real you. You're soft and loving, easy to hurt and quick to forgive.... brave enough to keep on living.... You see things I'd never even notice.... God knows what's going on inside that mind of yours most days. Mad quick.... that's you. I've never met anyone like you Sherlock...." He steadied his voice...."I wake up every day lad and I don't know how I earnt the right to be here with you. You should hate me." Alan swallowed round the complicated knot of emotion as his words died away into the silence.  
Sherlock's eyes widened. "I _never _hated you.... I've been angry at you."__

____

Alan's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You've the right to feel more than that. I let you down. You asked for my help...I did nothing for you."  
"I thought it was what I wanted...."Sherlock said hopelessly.  
"What do you mean...'you thought'?" Alan couldn't make sense of it. The words a wall too high for his weary mind to climb.  
"I want your love." Sherlock said tearfully.  
"Christ.... you have that lad. You've had it years. Who else am I going to give my knackered heart away too if you say you don't want it?" Alan made a joke of the truth, doing his own deflecting.  
"Me... It's mine...You're mine.... I want it all." Sherlock said, his voice strangely calm , at odds with the overwhelmed emotion in his inky eyes.  
"I'll love you till the day I die, lad..." The words echoed unluckily as Alan said them and his mouth found Sherlock's as he reached behind himself with his hand and touched his fingers to the wooden side of the old cast iron bath.... touching wood to avert ill omen.


	34. Just Give Me Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saul starts to undermine John's friendship with Sherlock .... hinting that John's motivation is predominantly sexual.... and insinuating that John could never be the faithful type of Alpha Sherlock would need.....
> 
> Greg and Mycroft get closer.... 
> 
> Mrs Hudson reflects on her marriage and the domestic violence she suffered years ago at her husband's hands....
> 
> Alan's day gets off to a perfect start and Sherlock finds a new reason to be happy .....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonny means beautiful.  
> Bloody 'eck....bloody Hell.  
> Summat.... something.  
> Would you look who the cat dragged in...would you look who is here! ( weird one I know! )
> 
> Blue...the track is I Know A Place by Muna.

"He's an ungrateful entitled brat...He takes it all for granted. He takes you for granted." Saul spoke his mind as he got under the duvet.  
"He's overwhelmed. He didn't mean it. I shouldn't have said what I did, he's nowhere close to accepting Riddick has feet of clay." John thumped at the pillow behind his head. "He's scared Saul.... and tomorrow he has to get up and face Magnussen all over again."  
" If he wasn't who he is you'd have some perspective on the situation John."  
"He's pregnant by another Alpha.... How much more perspective do I need?" John let that fact speak for itself.  
"Hah! You say that but here you are in bed with me and talking about an Omega whose been fucking another Alpha for months. Hard to let go of the fantasy of Sherlock for the reality much?"

John turned his head and stared, his brown eyes hard to read. "Is that what you still think, that I'll fuck you but I really want to be with him? I'm here aren't I? " He tossed one of his pillows aside irritably.  
Saul set the alarm on his mobile phone and reached to put it on the bedside locker his side of the bed before laying down, turning on his side to face John. "Don't take it the wrong way John.... I'm just saying it like I see it. He's an Elite Omega, of course you've fantasised about fucking him through a heat.... all that slick and scent, getting your knot in.... that's what being an Alpha is meant to be all about. We're raised to think its the ideal and however stereotypical it is, we all fall for it to some degree. I'll admit I saw him as a threat but now I've met him I don't. Forget the fact that he's probably been letting Riddick fuck him long before he left his bond... it'd never work out between you and him. Once you'd had him through his heat a few times the novelty would start to wear off. It'd get harder for you to stay faithful .... you'd end up breaking his monogamous little heart. I know you John... but go ahead, try and convince me I'm wrong."  
John said darkly.... "Don't think I can't Saul," and closed the gap between them almost resentfully .....

 

Greg flicked on the kitchen lights and watched as one flickered and went straight back out while the other gave off a dim faded glow. " Bugger.... Damn eco bulbs. That's the fourth one to go this week."  
Mycroft made a mental note to have the wiring checked and every bulb in Greg's house replaced by lunchtime tomorrow while the Omega was at work.  
Greg filled the kettle, undid his watch and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Have a look in the fridge. There's some pastrami .... should be some pickled gherkins at the back of the shelf." He didn't add it had cost him an arm and a leg in Waitrose food hall, or that he'd chosen it all with a hopeful eye to Mycroft's next visit.  
" Potato salad and coleslaw?" Mycroft asked.  
"Do you even have to ask?" Greg said with an open smile.

This had the feeling of domesticity.... sat facing each other in the dimly lit room....talking with the radio on low, over shared open tubs and packets of food, digging in with forks and fingers, ... it felt right in ways Mycroft hadn't even realised he'd been missing.  
"Sherlock didn't mean it, you know." Greg stabbed a gherkin with his fork.  
Mycroft placed a spoonful of coleslaw to the left of his beef before replying. " Of course you're aware on some level it's possible he did."  
Greg held out the cold pasta salad, his hand steady; patient with Mycroft's doubts. "You heard him on the witness stand... 'the best' brother.... sounds like a ringing endorsement of you to me."  
Mycroft reached out, his long fingers landing lightly on the top of Gregory's wrist bone. The contact sent its own reverberating echo through skin and nerves as his thumb stroked just once along the paler band of skin where Greg's wrist watch usually sat before it stilled and their eyes met....  
The small kitchen was so quiet Greg could hear the low hum of the small fridge as he heard himself ask....."Will you stay again?"  
Mycroft's blue- grey eyes looked down at his own fingers carefully touching Greg's wrist before he answered....."Yes..."

 

Martha Hudson still had times when she couldn't sleep without being pulled under to a past she'd worked hard to forget.  
Nights in which she'd turn on all the overhead lights one after the other even though she'd knew there was nobody there.  
Long hours in which she lay awake unmoving until dawn came and got up out of bed long before her small clock radio switched itself on.  
Days that began with her checking the age worn face that looked at back at her from the hall mirror wasn't still the same face she'd just seen in her dreams... wild hair, mascara stained cheeks and tearful smudged kohl eye make up, swollen lips and bruised wrists.  
She knew Sherlock still felt the same..... yesterday's panicked anger had given the Omega away. He'd lived in fear of a man who'd hurt and controlled him just like she had and he probably always would as long as his abuser was alive....

 

"Wakey wakey bonny lad." Alan flicked on the bedside lamp and sat himself down on the side of the bed. "Made you a cuppa."  
"Ugh....What time is it?" Sherlock's sleepy voice was indistinct, his head buried in the pillows on the Alpha's side of the bed.  
"5.15 .... The car will be here at 6.30.... remember? You've the hour to be up showered , dressed and fed." Rididck took a mouthful of tea.  
Sherlock gave a heart felt, melodramatic groan and rolled over onto his back to rub at his eyes. "Just kill me now! Why does anything Mycroft arranges always have to be so early in the morning?" He gave a huge boneless stretch.  
Alan placed a warm palm hopefully on Sherlock's compactly rounded belly, slipping his fingers just underneath his own old t-shirt onto the Omega's bare , beautiful skin. The response.... a scattering of tiny fast kicks peppering the width of his hand span, was immediate. He looked up at Sherlock's startled face with a disbelieving delighted grin ...."Well bugger me! Finally....Looks like our Neep's a morning person!"

 

Behind the anonymous doors and long innocuous corridors of Mycroft's underground bunker, power was fostered in those who held promise and ruthlessly removed from those who had failed to do as expected.  
In the event of a nuclear attack on the UK power would be coalesced into a new world order between these very walls.  
It should have been easy to micro-manage one 19 year old Omega.... but Sherlock bought his own anarchic unpredictabilty within him, hidden behind a facade of pale skinned , dark haired fragilty, like a geisha armed with firecrackers. As soon as he saw Mycroft he saw everything.....

"Well that's interesting...."  
"Precisely what are you referring too ?" Mycroft said with an elaborate patience.  
"Your hair."  
"Really Sherlock ... I fail to see how my personal grooming is of any significance...."  
"I do.... since its flattened more on the left side than on the right...You always sleep facing the door...and in your bedroom that means laying on your right side.... Did you sleep in somebody else's bed?"  
Mycroft pressed thumb and index fingers to the bridge of his nose... "Gregory and I were working late.... paperwork.... I may have rested my head against the side of the armchair."  
"Oh...." Sherlock was crestfallen, disappointment at the failure of his deduction clear in his voice. "I always get something wrong."  
"A mistake due to the early hour doubtless." Mycroft offered Sherlock an excuse for the deductive error even though he knew Sherlock wouldn't accept any excuse for what he'd see as a failure . Mycroft found that knowledge left him feeling unexpectedly guilty. 

 

Riddick's poker face clearly would leave much to be desired . There was an aware disapproval behind the man's eyes that annoyed Mycroft on several subliminal levels....  
"You have an opinion you regrettably feel a need to express?" Mycroft asked fastidiously.  
" Aye.... You could have let Sherlock know he was part right with his deductions..." Riddick said slowly. "It's not like he was wrong is it? There's summat between you and Greg? .... The lad just wants to be happy for you.... He's a decent bloke , Greg.... you could do a lot worse for yourself."  
It was unexpectedly friendly and Mycroft found he had no response he could reliably make past a nod of wordless, awkward agreement concerning Gregory's true worth.

" I'll let the Doctor know you are ready." Mycroft vanished out into the corridors , closing the heavy door behind him.  
"Jesus...it's a mini hospital." Alan was impressed.  
Sherlock fought down the urge to open the door again and get the Hell out of there. He was quiet... stood staring at the empty medical bed with its equipment to either side and its stirrups swung back. "I'm not having an internal exam," he said , a worried insistence changing his voice subtly enough for Alan to give him a second glance.  
Alan pulled out a chair and waited for Sherlock to sit down before speaking. "It'll be alright. Your brothers not an idiot, he knows that. He'll have got you the best Doctor there is, won't he." Riddick said and hoped he was right. He tried distraction...." So what happens at these scans then? You've had one before?"  
"Nothing .... its just a grainy picture that you can't make out and they never even explain what you're seeing or tell you anything." Sherlock replied.  
"Still, its a chance to see the baby." Alan was disappointed, he'd been looking forward to it.  
There were voices in the corridor outside and Alan saw Sherlock's eyes move nervously to the door as it opened and John appeared with another man close behind him.  
" Sorry about all the cloak and dagger stuff, having to meet here ."John said with a smile as he stepped aside.

" Hey Sherlock...."  
" Oh God.... Lars...!!" Sherlock said and was on his feet instantly throwing his arms around the other Omega .  
Sherlock had numbered the number of people in the world he'd willingly hug at six, including Aleksander... but Lars made that total up to seven.  
"Bloody 'eck .... would you look at what the cat dragged in...." Riddick was grinning.  
"The cat?" Lars said in total confusion, Riddick's Yorkshire dialect already proving a challenge.  
"That means he's happy to see you," Sherlock interrupted with a smile.  
"Aye... I am that" and Alan ignored the outstretched hand Lars was offering with a smile and to John's surprise pulled the Omega doctor into a warm hug. 


	35. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go well.....and.then they don't....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update includes some detail about problems in a pregnancy ... It could trigger though it's not graphic in any way....just be aware....its a two part scene , next part is being rewritten as I just didn't like it on a reread.
> 
> Blue the track is Gravity by John Meyer.

Mycroft had known when he put in place the very precise arrangements for Sherlock's visit here today that his actions would only be regarded as common place by anyone in his own employ. Espionage being their stock in trade, so to speak.  
He was aware it would not be a view shared by all.

John, he knew, would be directly blunt in his honest condemnation of such underhand tactics but Mycoft felt sure Alan Riddick would understand on some level the need to know and witness, after all the man had spent years watching Sherlock's every hour pass.  
Gregory.... if Mycroft knew the man well and he was certain he did, would be unable to reconcile the high level of personal power and control that had enabled this intrusion of privacy so he would have to remain in ignorance that it had ever taken place.  
Imagining the disappointment on the face of the Omega DI gave Mycroft his only true qualm of queasy guilt.  
Nevertheless the relief he felt from being able to see and hear everything going on inside a situation that all other parties erroneously believed to be private was familiar....watching over Sherlock was the only way to set his mind at ease.

This meeting afforded Mycroft instantly with new opportunities to learn and read the body language of the brother who had been lost to him for so long.  
Sherlock liked Lars very much it was immediately clear, enough to let his guard down and simply be....  
A relaxed Sherlock employed no body blocking techniques ....there were no crossed arms or raised knees to obscure the changes in his shape awkwardly from Lars view.  
He'd twisted his body around to face Lars happily and was leant against Riddick as if the man were little more than furniture, put there to provide comfort and support... Mycroft didn't fail to observe how easily Sherlock talked with the other Omega .... laughing and gesticulating, his perfectly arched, long fingered hands shaping whatever he was describing fluidly in the air, even when to do so meant moving into Riddick's personal space.

Lars Virtanen had been well vetted of course.... Mycroft had known to expect the open eyed, caring face but the easy friendship and acceptance the Omega doctor showed Sherlock and Riddick, despite the unorthodox situation of an unbonded pregnancy and the clear pseudo bond between Common Alpha and Elite Omega, showed him to be instinctively tactful. It was well done, professionally done .... Mycroft saw that of course.... but there was genuine friendship and underpinning it all a relaxed cameradarie helping Sherlock to feel safe before the inevitable examination.

Mycroft observed Lars dropping his eyes to the absence of the bond ring given to Sherlock by Magnussen only once... and the movements of Sherlock's hands as they landed on top of Riddick's muscled thigh mid conversation had only been deemed worth glancing at briefly.  
Mycroft wished he could say he felt the same.... he constantly fought against his own curiosity when it came to his brother's relationship with this most unlikely of Alpha....

"Once I do the scan we'll date the pregnancy a lot more accurately.... You've done really well Sherlock.... I wasn't sure you'd make it to the end of the week at one point." Lars said.  
"I told him Neep would be a battler..." Alan was saying and Mycroft didn't miss the perplexed concentration on Lars face as he tried to understand the dialect and its unfamiliar words.  
"Tough... you said the baby would be tougher than I thought," Sherlock reminded the Alpha lightly.  
It won him a smile before Alan replied. "Aye. Had to be with your stubborn streak...."  
"My stubborn streak....?" Sherlock was laughing, incredulously. "I'm not the one who refused to stop chopping logs in a blizzard...."  
"Wood pile was low," Alan said with a wide grin.  
"An entire porchful of logs is not low," Sherlock scoffed.

"My grandfather once sent the head of an axe flying over the fence into next door garden.... killed her goose stone dead. " Lars made his own axe chopping contribution with an anecdote.  
"As in literally it killed 'her' or was there an actual goose....?" Sherlock definitely sounded as though he hoped for the former.... Mycroft found himself smiling.  
"A goose.... my mother cooked it for Christmas that year." Lars replied.  
"Bit fatty goose....my grandmother always said. We had turkey....it was drier than sawdust..." Alan was thoughtful.  
" If its not cooked right then of course." Lars had never forgotten the meals of his own childhood. "But now I have a nutroast."  
"Sounds mouth watering, " Alan said with a grin and Mycroft realised it was a long standing joke of some sort as Lars shook his head and laughed.

"What did you have Sherlock? For Christmas dinner?" Riddick asked .  
"Two of the white deer, a buck and a doe.... spit roasted above the long fire in the Great Hall. It's a tradition.....they carry them in on the pole with the mistletoe for the chapel then they start to cook them at midnight after the prayers are over.... ."  
Alan blinked, having forgotten the lad's Elite status totally... he recovered admirably fast.... "Aye... that'd beat an Asda frozen turkey with some packet gravy, alright...." He gave a smirk.... "Spit roasted on a pole you say.... a doe and a buck...? One behind the other is it....?"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave a wicked grin. "Your mind is in the gutter.... you couldn't make them do 'that' on the pole and still cook them.... though Sherrinford did pay cook so one deer was sniffing the other one's arse one year!"  
Mycroft swiped at the Scotch he'd managed to spill down his own silk tie in uncordinated surprise... having thought that particular memory long forgotten.... how did Sherlock have that memory locked inside him when Mycroft himself had all but forgotten it....

"You haven't had an antenatal check up since I last saw you?"  
"No..." Sherlock admitted ."But Alan bought books and I've done everything they said to do....except for eating peanuts."  
Not the peanuts again, Sherlock's guilt was insane...Alan hid his smile.  
"Are we talking a one off packet or a daily munch fest?" Lars checked.  
"Once." Sherlock sounded guilty.  
"That sounds unlikely to have caused any issues with allergen exposure... We'll soon see on the scan." Lars acknowledged the reason he was here gently, letting the pregnancy conversation ebb and flow between them until he saw an opening as Sherlock stopped talking abruptly and glanced down at his belly.

"Was that a kick?" Lars checked everything was ok.  
"No...Its a pain... I've had it before." Sherlock trusted Lars with the truth." If I stand up too fast."  
"Could be a round ligament pain.... if it feels like a stretch? Do you want to have a look at what the baby is up to inside you, Sherlock?" Lars kept the question light .... a suggestion; up to the youth himself to decide  
"I don't want any internal exams." Sherlock glanced nervously around at Alan and Lars saw the anxiety behind his need for the Alpha to back him up.. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how close Alan had moved to the Elite Omega, lending him the protection of a familiar body close to his own.

"Sherlock I won't touch you internally .... not at all , if its necessary I'll stop and let you sit up and we'll discuss it first. I promise."  
Sherlock looked for all the world like someone who wished the ground would open up and swallow him and the tiny nod of his head felt very hard won. Lars noticed Sherlock jump when Alan laid a well meaning hand on his arm.  
"Alright lad." Not a question, a comforting reassurance.  
"Yes," Sherlock said although he sounded unsure.  
"What I'll ask you to do Sherlock is to go behind the screen.... Alan can come with you, if you'd like....I've asked for a extra big robe so you can wrap it round and cover yourself up better than those things usually allow...."  
Sherlock's gaze kept darting past Lars to settle fearfully on the bed before finally he stood up reluctantly.  
"Want me to come with?" Alan offered.  
The Elite Omega's muted nod showed how nervous he was.

Suddenly the phone in Lars pocket gave a sharp vibration. "Hello...?"  
"Would it be possible to remove the examination stirrups from the foot of the bed Mr Virtanen...? I believe they are causing the problem..." Mycroft's Holmes coolly intelligent voice.  
"How did you...?" He could see them Lars realised , shocked at the intrusion of patient privacy.... he looked up instantly , searching for the camera that must be there....  
There was a gruff, cough from behind him and Lars span around , still jumpy after the assault on his life, to see Alan attempting to look as innocuous as it was possible for a man 6ft 7 inches tall to look as he held a wide palm out for the phone.... once dropped into his palm he vanished with it behind the screen....  
"You could just come in you know.... into the room. You don't need to spy.... I don't mind.... " Sherlock sounded short of breath.  
Mycroft heard the trepidation in his brother's voice. "Would it help to have me there, Sherlock?" He resented needing to ask if he could offer assistance when he felt instinctively he could be of use.  
"You're going to be uncle.... to the baby. " Sherlock said with an awkward shyness.  
Mycroft was taken aback by the sentimentality, heard Alan say something....and knew the phone had been handed over or taken straight away. It was horribly reminiscent of those empty months when Sherlock had vanished and sporadic, combative calls were all he had left. "Mr Riddick...." he waited to be told he wasn't wanted.... wasn't welcome or needed .  
Alan's tone was gruff.... "He won't say it... typical kid brother.... but he wants you here.... Like the lad says, you're family...." 

Lars saw the relief in Sherlock's face as he saw the dreaded examination stirrups being removed and taken away, something Lars would never have thought to do had Mycroft Holmes not intervened.  
The man himself covered any awkwardness behind a mask of impeccable Englishness as he took a seat on the right of Sherlock's bed.  
Sherlock kept his eyes on Lars as the Doctor began setting up and the youth's wary stillness reminded him of the first time he'd tried to examine him. "Ok .... Sherlock.... Now I'm going to ask you to lay back, put your feet together and pull up your knees .... I'll cover you with a blanket and ask you to let your knees fall apart... " He could see Sherlock's hand start to tremble. "The next thing you'll feel will be some cold gel on your perineum....and then the wand. It'll stay on your perineum , you'll feel me angle it around to get the best image . If it's uncomfortable in any way as soon as you tell me I will stop....Ok?"  
"Yes...." Sherlock lay back and stared rigidly up at the ceiling as Lars unfolded the blanket.  
"Cold squirt coming up..." Sherlock drew in his breath as Lars touched him and again sharply as the gel hit skin.... he was visibly shaking now. Lars saw the hand that Alan had snuck under the blanket lock fingers with Sherlock's and watched Sherlock clutch hard .....  
Lars knew something that'd help.... he reached out and turned the screen around, angling the wand against Sherlock's pale skin....." There you are....That's your baby." 

Mycroft had of course done his research before arranging for the high spec 3D scanner.... he didn't expect to be so moved by the inate vulnerabilty of the fetus in his brother's womb.  
" Head measurements are perfect...I'll try and get a face image when baby moves it's hand...You were right about that stubborn streak Alan, it really won't move that hand in front of the face....I'll come back to that.... Nice long thigh bone....see the legs and feet there? All ten toes.... Spinal cord looks well covered so we can rule out spina bifida....Heart has no defects....see the blood flow there Sherlock?...Someone has been drinking the amniotic fluid.... belly and bladder both full....See how dark they are.... that's because both are full of fluid." Lars moved to point, moving the wand a little further forward so he didn't reveal the babies gender. "If you'd like to know the sex or secondary gender now would be a perfect moment...."  
Alan was staring at the screen so intently he didn't even hear.....  
"Alan....? Do you want to know? " Sherlock was uncertain.  
"What do you want lad? I'll go along with you."  
"I'd like to know.... sex and secondary gender...both."  
"Alright then...."

Lars moved the wand backwards over the line of Sherlock's perineum...."You're having a little boy.... an Omega boy."  
" Yes! I knew it!... I told you love!... Omega!.... You little beauty Sherlock! Get in there!.... A ruddy genius that's what you are lad!" Every few words punctuated with kiss after kiss.  
Mycroft looked awkwardly away from his somewhat shell shocked brother and caught Lars eye...."The desired result it would appear."  
Lars had never seen a more positive reaction from an Alpha father to be....

"The measurements are all a little under estimated dates but nothing we need worry about at this stage.... the pregnancy may simply be a few days earlier than you thought.... How much did Aleksander weigh at birth Sherlock? "  
"4lb 6oz....1.984 kg. " Sherlock knew exactly.  
"That's on the smaller end of the scale , this baby may be similar .... and Omega tend to be lighter."  
"But there's nothing wrong ....with the baby?" Sherlock clearly heard something in Lars voice and Mycroft had turned to watch Lars closely.  
"The baby is fine Sherlock....No abnormalities. Good and active.  
"But there is a problem?" Mycroft was sure of it.  
"What problem?" Alan's voice was hoarse, the happiness of a moment before gone. "Is Sherlock alright? "  
Sherlock was ashen faced , staring at the screen.

"There is a problem. The cervix has already begun to funnel and thin...." Lars said. "I'd like John to take a look at the scan, if you'd agree, he's a little more experience with Elite anatomy than I do?"  
Under the blanket he watched as Sherlock pulled Alan's hand over his own body in a secret hug both thought nobody could see .

John hated days like these.... Sherlock was mute, eyes full of quiet subdued panic , Mycroft white faced and silent.... Alan's head was down and he barely spoke. John had a feeling the other man couldn't trust his voice not to reveal how upset he was.  
John tried to see Sherlock as a patient but could only see him as a friend as he nodded at Lars in confirmation of what the Doctor already knew as Lars wiped the gel from Sherlock's skin and guided his legs down to lay covered by the blanket.

"I'm going to miscarry aren't I?" Sherlock spoke , his voice thickened with grief already.  
John glanced over at Lars , wanting to be the one to speak but allowing Lars first shot.  
"The cervix should be tightly closed. Think of it like a short roll neck ....the cervix should be long and evenly thick but instead it's thinned and is more of a funnel." Lars explained with a sketch, quickly done on paper."  
"If it opens he loses the baby? What happens to Sherlock?" Alan's voice was raw, flooded with worry as he focused on Sherlock. "Would he bleed out like before?"  
" There is that risk ... if so the pregnancy could come away without much warning. If it does blood loss could be heavy....so yeah...that's a danger." John said.  
"That's what we need to avoid if we can." Lars added.  
Sherlock shook his head. " I'll lose it anyway. I always do. My body isn't made right. This always happens."  
"This is not your fault Sherlock." Mycroft said. 

"You haven't lost the baby yet." John said. "There's procedures we can try that have a reasonable chance of success. We just need your agreement to try."


	36. Bigger Than Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the last update.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping all the chemistry data is right....blame Wikipedia if it's not!
> 
> Nowt....nothing  
> We get by with owt' fuss...." We don't make any fuss" 
> 
> Blue....the track is Bigger Than Love by Oh Wonder.

"We'll have what we need shortly. The hospital courier said traffic is heavy all the way in." John said.  
"You could just put me to sleep... like you did before." Sherlock's scared attempt at negotiation was coming closer to pleading by the second.  
"We can't." Lars explained again, his voice gentle. "All of the drugs I could use are heavily contraindicated.... they could affect the baby's lungs if it was to be born prematurely and we already know there is that increased risk....."  
"I want to sit up...." Sherlock's speech had become bluntly demanding and Mycroft knew what that meant....fear. " I can't breathe....I'm going to be sick..."  
"It's best if you stay flat Sherlock.... less pressure on the cervix..... " John was already reaching for a disposable kidney bowl when Sherlock snatched for it in urgent panic ....

Riddick layered the clean blankets up, uncharacteristically silent as Sherlock began to apologise and shiver. "I'm sorry....I'm sorry I got sick..."  
"Hey... I'm a Doctor... vomit and me were like that by the time I got through med school." John held up two crossed fingers. "Let's get you a heat pad and warm you up."

"The courier just cleared security." Mycroft kept his voice low.  
"That's good. The sooner we get this done the better."  
"Is it, John? .... He's traumatised.... " Guilt gnawed away at Mycroft.... Sherlock had said he didn't want an internal examination over and over, fearfully adamant.  
"I know that.... Look, if he doesn't have this done Mycroft, he will lose the pregnancy for sure. As the baby grows the weight grows and that's more pressure on a weak cervix.... Lars doesn't even want him to get up off the bed, that's how bad it is. It's not just the baby.... it's putting Sherlock at risk Mycroft.... a heavy bleed could be life threatening and he's had several before." 

"May I have a word with my brother Mr Riddick? Privately...." Mycroft was surprised when Alan got mutely, almost tamely, to his feet without argument.  
"I'll be right back lad."  
This close Sherlock's eyes were filled with fears and he plucked fretfully at the blanket as his eyes followed Alan to the door. "Where are you going?" The question burst out as soon as Riddick laid a hand upon the handle.  
Every eye in the room turned Riddick's way as he stopped, door still open and explained gruffly.... "Just a smoke .... It's alright. I'll be right outside."  
Sherlock kept staring at the closed door even after Riddick was gone.... in the distance a reverberating bang could faintly be heard.

"Sherlock...."Mycroft called his focus back gently."Sherlock....John says this will give the baby the best chance...."  
Sherlock inhaled sharply. "He's lying."  
"No Sherlock... if the cervical shortening is less than 25 mm a suture can prevent ...." Mycroft stopped mid sentence and watched Sherlock' twist the blanket violently in both hands.  
"Not John.... Alan....Alan's lying."  
"Lying about what? " Mycroft stared at the intensity of the fear in Sherlock's eyes.  
"He's not okay.... Didn't you see how he shut the door? Too fast.... slammed it a little, let go the handle almost straight away.... " Sherlock listed all his observations at speed.... before his vision began to blur and he became tearful. "He doesn't even smoke."  
On the other side of the bed John looked up from the belt monitor print out he'd been looking at. "Do you want me to fetch him back Sherlock?"  
Sherlock gave a single tight nod of his head.  
"Yeah? I'll do that then, for you...."John promised.

Lars took delivery of the courier's parcel at the door as John went past him into the long empty corridors. "Give me a few minutes." John asked before picking up a first aid kit on a impulse. Outside long empty corridors stretched away and John looked before turning left and heading down towards the only set of dark wooden and glass doors he could see with cracked glass. 

Alan stood facing the wall halfway down an empty corridor , chest heaving as he fought back a torrent of emotion.... "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" The violence was unleashed suddenly, a flurry of punches into plastered brick that broke skin and bone and smeared rampant scarlet blood over the beige paint......"Fuck!"

There was blood on the wall and heavy drops had soaked into the carpet. "Sherlock's asking for you." John ignored the harsh breathing and lowered head and focused on the torn skin , swollen flesh and broken knuckles... "Alan ?"  
" I heard you."  
John crouched down. "Can you make a fist?"  
Alan didn't bother with a reply or trying.  
"I'll take that as a no , then.... Your knuckles are broken. You've pushed them halfway up the back of your hand... I'll have to work them back into place."  
"Fucking Hell.... do I look like I give a shit about my sodding hand!" Alan exploded.  
John didn't even blink. "Give me the bloody hand.... or do you want Sherlock to see it like that?"  
Alan's head thumped back against the wall as he stared past John as if the other Alpha wasn't there...."Do what you like."

John knew from personal experience manipulating the knuckles back under the skin was a sickeningly unpleasant sensation and strapping the broken fingers was painful.... he doubted Riddick even felt it on any conscious level. The Alpha stayed still and silent as all the painful work was done. "It'll need some stitches and an ice pack later.... We need to get you back to Sherlock."  
Just touching Riddick's wide, warm hand, knowing these were the fingers that felt Sherlock's bare skin and knew the Omega's body intimately, was a struggle.... leaving John unsettled and on edge. He looked up to realise Alan knew something of that conflict... the man's intense blue eyes were unfriendly and full of a weary dislike.  
"What are the odds on him losing .... on Sherlock losing the baby?"  
" Every one is different. If he doesn't allow us to do this ....100%. Once the cervical stitch is in...if he doesn't start to contract or bleed within the first 24 hours then the odds look better.... He'll have to lay flat .... after that he'll need to rest a lot more.... No penetrative sex...."  
"I don't give a fuck about sex! What kind of a bastard do you think I am? " Riddick swore, frustration building.... " I want to know.....if it comes to a choice, you'll put Sherlock first?"  
John nodded.  
"Ahead of saving the baby?" Alan demanded a final answer.  
" Can you see Mycroft... any of us.... allowing any other decision?" John answered honestly.  
Alan stared John in the face.... "It won't be what Sherlock wants .... if it's got to be done, if you can't save both.... Sherlock comes first."  
"Not your son?" John watched every bleak emotion of loss as it crossed Riddick's face.  
"Sherlock...." Alan said tonelessly as he pushed up the wall to his feet. "I'm nothing without him."

Mycroft listened as Sherlock's breathing sped up , becoming shallower and more erratic and saw the concern in Lars face as the doctor placed the nasal catheter around Sherlock's face.  
"Alan's not back.... I can't without Alan... I need Alan...." Sherlock was right on the verge of a melt down.  
"He'll be back, I just want to get you inhaling the gas .... we'll give them a few minutes more. " Lars needed to calm Sherlock down and get him breathing slowly.

"Nitrous oxide, Sherlock.... " Mycroft's familiar intelligent voice was easier to make sense of...."would that be soluble in alcohol and ether?"  
"Sulfuric acid." Sherlock spoke without turning his head..  
"Ahhhh of course .... and the solubilty in water ...?" Mycroft waited...  
"1.5g/L ... boiling point of minus 88.48 degrees celsius, minus 127.26 degrees fahrenheit." Sherlock's eyes flickered to Mycroft.

Lars smiled. " You know your subject Sherlock...." He turned on the flow of gas slowly.  
Mycroft watched as his brother pulled at the stitching on the blankets hem agitatedly until it came apart. "The melting point would be well up in the high 80s ?"  
"90.86 celsuis... minus 131.55 fahrenheit."  
Lars increased the flow of gas a little more.  
"Are you sure?" Mycroft pushed for Sherlock's concentration seamlessly, timing it perfectly.  
Sherlock looked away from the door. "It's chemistry...."

"The molecular shape would be..."  
"Linear..." Sherlock spoke up before Mycroft could finish.  
"And the Dipole moment?"  
"0.166D."  
"The molar mass is 44.013g/mol?" Mycroft allowed himself a moment of intellectual peacocking hoping to tempt a reaction.  
"Vapour pressure of 5150kPa.... it's a.... colourless gas." Sherlock's voice sounded a little slurred . His fingers stopped destroying the stitching and lay curled and helpless.

Mycroft placed his hand over Sherlock's and held it there.... "Didn't you make some once, brother mine? With a pneumatic trough?"  
Sherlock blinked fighting for recall and focus...."Humphrey Davies method....heat ammonium nitrate .... decompose it into nitrous oxide and water vapour...." 

Mycroft tightened his comforting grasp of the hand below his own.  
Sherlock didn't move his hand away. "Do you think...?" He sounded vaguely drunk....  
"I think Alan will be back any minute Sherlock...." Mycroft said kindly as he heard the door banging outside in the corridor.  
"My arms ....weird." Sherlock sounded confused..  
Lars nodded at Mycroft. "It's a side effect Sherlock.... of the gas."  
"What gas?" Sherlock said and started to giggle weakly ....

"You started on the good stuff without me did you lovely lad?" Alan slid into the chair by Sherlock's head and leant foward to press a kiss against Sherlock's forehead.  
"You came back...." Sherlock felt like he was floating.  
"Course I did... " Alan leant to place a kiss on the bare curved rise of Sherlock's bump.... and felt Neep moving in the womb as he spoke his words against warm soft skin.... "Now you, behave yourself in there and quit worrying your mother....You're a Riddick we get by with owt' fuss."  
"Beardy kiss...." Sherlock's laughter was slurred..  
"Oi cheeky lad....thought you liked my beardy kisses?" Alan said with a smile and tested his theory out by covering Sherlock's beautiful pale face with them. 

John slotted the dreaded examination stirrups back into place as quietly as he could.  
Mycroft stood up and took an awkward step back to hover by the ultrasound machine as Lars lifted Sherlock's leg into one side then waited while John did the same on the other side.  
Lars reached for the speculum and warmed the cold metal in his latex gloved hand.  
"You came back...." Sherlock said it again, like he'd only just realised.  
"Aye love.... I'm right here. Did you think I'd left you?"  
" Can't ... Not ever...." Sherlock made a pained noise.... followed by another..... "Ow.Ow...Ow..."  
Alan stroked Sherlock's hairline with gentle fingers."It's alright. I've got you."

"Can you move the light for me a little John?" Lars was focused.  
"There?"  
"Perfect.... I can feel some dilation...."  
Sherlock made another sharp sound. "Ow ... stop....Ow.... Alan...."  
"I eased back on the gas a bit...I don't want to give him too much."  
"Ow..Don't... Ow...let me move!" Sherlock mumbled.  
"He's in pain?" Mycroft spoke up.  
"Yeah....a lot of pressure.... he'll feel like he's very drunk, bit giddy.... bit like it's happening to somebody else...." John tried to explain.

"My ear....noisy...." Sherlock mumbled.  
"It's the gas. Another side effect." John amgled the examination light into a better position for Lars.  
Alan stood and bent low over the bed...."Summertime.... I'll take you to Yorkshire lad. Up on the moors where the sky is high as Heaven.... Blanket in the long grass ..... watching the clouds scudding over.... now't to hear but black faced sheep and larks..... God's country."  
John looked up. Surprise on his face.  
Lars reached for the needle and suture.  
Sherlock wound both pale arms up round Riddick's back.... " My snow.... my birds....."  
Alan chuckled...." Aye love.... Yorkshire larks, that's what I made you.... I'll make you a flock every winter long as there's snow . You and Neep both...."

Sherlock moaned.....  
"I'd go a bit higher..." John's golden hair brushed Lars as he bent to give an opinion, heads so close they were touching.  
"There....?" Lars waited.  
"Yeah... I'd go in there... Bring the needle through and pull the suture down."  
Mycroft winced as Sherlock cried out inarticulately... watching as his brother's hand spasmed, opening and closing, clawing Riddick's shirt into creased fistfuls....


	37. Through The Good Times and The Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha stands by Sherlock...even when it makes her life harder to do so.
> 
> Sherlock tries to become more home focused and domestic.... 
> 
> Saul is increasingly fed up with Sherlock's constant presence in John's life....and just who is his mysterious interview with?
> 
> Greg brings an unsolved serial murder case file to show Sherlock without New Scotland Yard, Mycroft or Alan knowing....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought we'd have a little fluff...mixed in with murder, as you do....  
> Next update we'll be back in Court and things will be angsty as the body count rises by one.....
> 
> Mudlarking....looking for treasure in the mud along the banks of the Thames. Very mucky work!
> 
> Track is Loli Jackson ( acoustic version is lovely) by Dover. Thanks Blue, I love that track!

The bus jolted as it turned into Baker Street and the sharp edges of several hardback school books, piled hapazardly in the low slung bag of the tall teenager stood behind her, dug sharply into Martha's hip. The pain made her felt faintheaded but she smiled back when the dark eyed Alpha teenager with his top knot and school uniform apologised and angled his bag away from her a little more.  
Back in the 60s , when Martha wore patchwork suede mini shirts and psychedelic paisley shirts, she would never have seen an older lady or Omega left to stand on a crowded bus ..... a man would always have stood to offer his seat but times had changed and in the teeming 24 hour city that London had become there was less sense of community and a new harder under class of people permanently on the make.

Despite the sunshine it was cold. As she got off the bus, there was a stiff spring wind blowing the rubbish along the wide pavement and Martha stood aside, out of the way of the steady stream of passers by, to do up another button on her rain mac and adjust the silken headscarf she wore about her neck.  
On the metal racks of newpapers inside the local shop she'd used for years, Sherlock's face was plastered over every front page... headline news. His darkly lashed, haunted eyes and pale face was caught in an unguarded vulnerable moment between camera flashes and shouting. He looked like a scared child and Martha's heart went out to him

RUNAWAY OMEGA DEMANDS SON BACK.... the solid print of the headline proclaimed.  
HOLMES BROTHERS TURN UP AT BOND COURT WITH COMMON ALPHA RUMOURED TO BE SHERLOCK'S LOVER.  
Mrs Hudson tutted dismissively as she read another headline..... DIGNIFIED CHARLES MAGNUSSEN FACES WORLD MEDIA ON DAY THREE OF LEGAL BATTLE TO BRING HIS SON'S MOTHER HOME....  
MILLIONAIRE MAGNUSSEN BEGINS FIGHT TO REUNITE HIS FAMILY  
The media bias was already heavily slanted in Charles favour. Mrs Husdon gave the photograph of Sherlock's Alpha that was blazoned over the front page of The Times an exagerated eye roll. "Dignified...? Rotten to the core more like! You don't fool me with your suit and your poor me face....no better than you ought to be."

The middle aged Alpha man who was restacking the newspaper display inside the small corner shop gave her a friendly smile as she chose several chocolate bars for Sherlock.... " Morning Martha. Second time I've restocked these papers today, people can't read enough about it. Dirty bunch aren't they, the Elite? That Magnussen's old enough to be the Omega's father! I said to the wife, he was asking for trouble employing a muscle man like that as his mate's bodyguard....Young Omega like that, it's human nature to look at a more handsome face..."  
"Looks aren't everything, Henry. It's the child I feel sorry for, with a sluttish mother like that ... up and leaving a child then asking for him back.... it's a disgrace! Law needs changing. If you ask me Martha...." The Alpha's pinch faced wife had her own opinion on who was to blame.  
"Which I didn't .... so I'd thank you to keep your opinions to yourself Francine Walsh. It's not some soap on the telly for you to watch while your Henry sits in his vest and shovels supper down his throat. These are real lives...You know nothing about it .... that poor boy has been through Hell!"  
"Well I never!....The cheek of you Martha Hudson when you used to shake your tassels down Soho way!....How dare you come in here criticising my Henry's table manners...." Francine began....  
"You started it... insulting my Sherlock! I'll take my business elsewhere from now on. The customer service in this shop isn't what it used to be."Martha said haughtily, as she put down the purchases she had in her hand on the counter, dusted her hand off as though it was soiled and walked away with her head held high as Francine spluttered indignantly behind her.

Martha lent on the wall as she came into her hallway; putting the shopping bags down , her hip was aching right in the bone. The door to 221b was open wide and she could hear Riddick's voice as she took her breather before climbing the stairs.  
" I'm not messing you around.... We just can't make the appointment.... " He sounded frustrated. "He's not been well....Yeah , I know appointments are hard to come by.... No, we still want to come in...." He gave a deep sigh.... "Of course it's bloody important to me.... to us...else I wouldn't be calling would I? I don't have an attitude.... Right .... well, it wasn't meant to come across that way. " Another heavier sigh as his patience finally ran out. " Look .... Are you going to let me reschedule again or fucking not? "  
Oh goodness! "Manners !" Martha mouthed at Riddick as she turned the half landing to see Alan stood outside the door into Sherlock's flat, mobile phone dwarfed in one hand and a pissed off look on his face.  
Riddick frowned at her but as she passed him Martha heard him beginning to apologise again.

There was a faint but still noticeable pall of strongly onion scented smoke in the air, Martha could see it quite clearly against the window panes and the kitchen extractor fan was on full.  
"Does that look right to you?" Sherlock was peering into the pan and poking the contents with a metal spoon. He didn't need to turn to know who it was, Martha's hip meant her walk was distinctive enough. "I'm sure its meant to be more golden and less dark brown with black bits?"  
"That's burnt, dear."  
"Shit.... This is impossible. I only looked away for a second."  
"Goodness me! Sherlock... language , please! " Martha reprimanded the Omega. Some of Alan Riddick's rougher edged manners were rubbing off on Sherlock and left much to be desired in her opinion.  
"But ... it's my sixth onion. They burn really fast." Sherlock gestured hopelessly at the pile of onion skins and peeled mess covering the table and floor. Martha noticed a fresh plaster on his slim fingers.  
The open cookery book told her this particular culinary disaster in the making was meant to be chilli con carne....  
"It's Alan's favourite meal." Sherlock said dubiously.

"Sherlock... I'm off out to the gym, lovely lad. "Alan called through from the sitting room. He had clearly been outside on the landing for some time while Sherlock had been cooking as Martha watched him blink manfully in the face of the eye stingingly intense burnt onion smoke and fumes.  
"Don't come in...." Sherlock said. "It's meant to be a surprise but it's going slightly wrong. You can't try it yet. It's not cooked.... I haven't added the main ingredients."  
Alan grinned indulgently at the sight of Sherlock's rounded little baby belly underneath the funny apron and then caught sight of a small pile of what looked worrying like Scotch Bonnet chilli on the worktop behind the Omega. "Right you are love.... Give me a call if you need me. " He made a mental note to pick up some heavy duty indigestion medication on his way home....  
Martha scraped burnt onion number six into the bin and looked despairingly at her pan before reaching for a scouring pad.... "Why don't I stay and help out, Sherlock?" She suggested mildly. "We can spend a lovely morning cooking together like they do on the Connie Prince show?"  
She could have laughed at the tentative look of hope that crossed Riddick's face at the prospect of getting something tasty and well cooked to eat.... 

"Saul...? I'm off .... I'll be in Court this afternoon so my phone will be off." John leant on the door frame and glanced up from his mobile phone as he spoke . "Good luck with that meeting."  
Saul smiled... "I've got a good feeling about it John. Seems to me I'm exactly the oppportunity this man needs to shake things up in his favour."  
John's boyish smile lit up as he looked down at the text he'd just got in reply to the one he'd sent. " If you think it went well, let me know... I'll book us a table to celebrate."  
Saul began stacking the dishwasher."You'll be busy with Sherlock won't you? After the Court... you usually go back to Baker Street."  
"No... Sherlock has his own plans for tonight." John looked up from the screen again. "Is something wrong, Saul?"  
" Damn it!" Saul looked at the forks he held in his hand and tossed a handful noisily into the sink . "Dirty...."he said by way of explanation. "Course there's no problem John. Make us the reservation. Nothing's wrong. "

Greg swallowed a mouthful of cold coffee and made his mind up. "Sally... I'm heading out. My phone'll be off for a couple of hours ... text me if anything changes."  
He stood and pulled on his black raincoat , keeping an eye on Sally as he took a manilla case file from the top of a towering pile on his desk and took it with him.  
Outside Greg tossed the file onto the passenger seat and cast a rueful eye over the empty takeaway coffee mugs that were already littering the footwell.  
He hit dial as he turned out of New Scotland Yard's carpark and waited for the person he'd dialled to pick up.

"Hello....Greg?" Sherlock sounded flustered.  
"Everything alright with the baby? "Greg checked.  
"Yes .... I'm cooking..... Wait a minute.... Mrs Hudson! Where are you?" Greg heard the Beta's voice in the background...." I _am _stirring it, it's still catching on the bottom of the pan! You need to stop hoovering dust and come see...." Sherlock yelled.__  
Greg winced and held the phone away from his ear as Sherlock shouted, before checking. "Alan there? I thought he was at the gym?"  
There was a slight inquisitive edge to Sherlock's voice when he answered. "Problem? He's at the gym.... Why would that matter? ..... Unless....." Greg heard him lower his voice conspiratorially...."Did you bring the crime scene photo's? The body in the Thames case?"  
Damn him. One step ahead already.... "Yeah.... God help me .... I bought them to show you....."

____

"How long before you get here? " Sherlock said and Greg heard an exclamation and a loud clatter as something metal hit the floor. "Sorry , that was a pan lid. I didn't know they get very hot...."  
"Ten minutes." Greg heard the sound of running water. "Are you ok? You didn't burn your hand, Sherlock?"  
"Ok.... ten minutes. Only a small burn, I'm holding it under cold water.... that's right isn't it?..... Mrs Hudson...Oh there you are!" There was a sound as Sherlock placed the phone down on speaker without ending the call.  
"Sherlock.... have you been stirring this all the time like I told you? It's stuck to the bottom." Martha's voice echoed in the small kitchen.  
"Yes... Yes .... they need to make the spoons much wider. If they did that it'd be much simpler....you could cover all the pan in one stir..." Sherlock sounded distracted.  
"What's this mess doing all over the floor? " Martha's voice was asking. "Whatever happened?"  
"Nothing drastic ..... I dropped the pan lid." Deep breath.... " I think I can manage now .... You've been amazing.... _such _a help.... " Greg smiled at the emphasis Sherlock gave to the word 'such'...."I think I can try it alone from here on.... Three hours on simmer, wasn't it? ....No? .... Oh... one and a half hours ....? Right.... "__

" Are you sure?....Oh Sherlock.... I really ... Oh goodness .... wait a minute.... I don't even have my handbag... Oh Sherlock!" and a last despairing...."Don't let it burn...."  
"Yes.... yes...."  
Greg grinned at the sound of Mrs Hudson's indignant squawks and protests as Sherlock ushered her from the flat... but he didn't laugh out loud till he heard Sherlock exclaim excitedly, thinking himself unheard.... "Yes! A serial killer.... Finally... crime scene photos!... Do you hear that Neep? " Greg heard a saucepan banging...."I don't have time to cook now..... Get off the heat!...A serial killer...that beats cooking hands down."  
Only Sherlock would talk to a pan of chilli.... but, to be fair, it did sound like all the Elite Omega's Christmasses had come at once.

____

Greg was slightly thrown when he arrived at the top of the stairs, crime scene folder under one arm; to find Sherlock red in the face and wearing an apron with some cartoon version of Batman's super hero body on the front of it. Owing to the shape of Sherlock....Batman looked decidedly pregnant.  
"Very ... cute...." Greg teased.  
"Help.... I pulled it into a knot by mistake and now I can't get out of it!" Sherlock produced an alarmingly large , sharp looking butchers knife from behind his back. "I've been trying to cut my way free."  
Greg held his hand out for the knife and put it safely aside. "Turn around.... and stand still." As he pulled at the knotted apron strings he found himself staring at the savage bond bite that covered the nape of Sherlock's neck with all its delicate bones.....  
"Can I look?" Sherlock asked even as he reached for the crime scene folder Greg had laid on the table top so he'd have both hands free to undo the knot.... 

Working with Sherlock was an experience.... much like being swept downstream by rapids towards a waterfall would be , Greg suspected.  
Greg answered question after question as best he could .... citing pathologist reports and pointing out each numbered crime scene photo only to see most of the evidence he offered dismissed out of hand.  
"That can't be right....unless his head was covered....That's it! .... The head must have been wrapped.... Maybe a scarf or .... probably not a scarf but something.... We need to find whatever they wrapped his head in!"  
"Why are you so sure the head was wrapped when the body first went into the Thames? We found nothing like that?" Greg wanted proof.  
Sherlock was leafing through the gory morgue photographs of the dead Omega's pulped face without a care in the world. "If the body went into the water at Wapping then the sediment there should mean a lot more Thames mud deposited in his mouth and nose.... Tidal pattern's , you see? The mouth is set open....rigor mortis .... yet look... that's all the mud that came out of his nose, throat and digestive tract.... something flitered most of it out.... Whatever it was was tied round his head.... look at the tiny 'mystery' abrasions at the back of his hairline.... something was tied so tightly right there it broke skin.... Maybe the killer didn't like looking at a dead face ... or maybe he didn't mind but whoever put the body in the river did..."

"You think he had help? An accomplice? " Greg hadn't expected that. "He's not working alone?"  
"I need to see the actual crime scene , where you pulled the body out."  
"Not a hope...." Greg knew Mycroft would never allow it.  
"Why not?" Sherlock gave Greg a disappointed stare but Greg didn't waver.... "Of course he had help.... Whoever this Omega was he's waxed and manicured , not a trace of stubble on his whole body. Anus bleached...." Sherlock flicked a photo of the boy's genitalia over the table at a startled Greg.... "That level of hairless , bleached and perfect means he is either a porn actor.... unlikely, he'd have been identified by now.... or.... much more likely , he's a high class escort. Sexual assault marks on his body.... Semen from more than one Alpha..... " Sherlock hesitated and touched the photo gently as he spoke...."He's been raped .... most likely he agreed to take part in a well paid sexual encounter that went very wrong and afterward he was disposed of. "

"So our killer is a client? Or the pimp?"  
"I think the pimp put him into the water.... knew him and felt guilty about it so covered his face.... the eyes are open you see? "  
"So a client killed him?"  
"I think .... an Elite Alpha killed him... maybe more than one Alpha. Look at the multiple bites to the back of his neck.... the way the spine is exposed.... he's been bitten and rebitten. The spinal cord is almost severed." Sherlock laid one long finger on the proof. "If you let me walk the mudbank at low tide I may be able to find whatever they wrapped his head in..."  
"Yeah? That's also a no....." Greg could only imagine Mycroft and Alan's reactions if he suggested taking Sherlock mudlarking along the Thames, but that was more than sufficient. He stared at the morgue photos.... without seeing Sherlock's own bite he would never have been open to seeing that Sherlock was right .... the tissue damage was a series of bond bites.

"Sherlock that was...amazing stuff." Greg meant it.  
Sherlock dropped his head shyly. "Don't."  
" Why not? Bloody Hell..why not?" Greg shook his head, awed. "It'd be a crying shame not to use an ability like that. It's a once in a lifetime gift, sunshine."  
Sherlock sighed.... "That's all very well but I can't even cook Alan his favourite meal without giving him and me indigestion for half the night."  
"None of which seems to bother Alan." Greg grinned as he asked. "Do you always talk to the food as it cooks?"  
"I'm desperate enough to try anything," Sherlock said. "I'm hoping the ingredients will take pity on me if I befriend them just before i incinerate them."


	38. A Thinking Feeling Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock lies to get John to take him to find the bag he knows the dead Omega from the Thames had wrapped around his head. He barely manages to get his 'evidence' before the lies he told to get there are revealed.  
> John isn't happy he was lied to....Mycroft isn't either ....yet both end up telling their own lies.  
> A bitter truth about how Mycroft feels is revealed....  
> Sherlock tries to mend bridges between the brother he loves and the son he wants back.  
> Mycroft weaves his own web of deceit to keep his beloved brother happy....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok now before anyone freaks out .... A more open relationship is pretty common in the gay community. It's not my personal choice, I prefer monogamy but I know a lot of couples it does seem to work for... so , that is what John claims to have with Saul.  
> Of course he isn't being honest with Sherlock . He would always choose an exclusive relationship with Sherlock ( as Riddick has ) but in this scene he doesn't see that as ever being possible....  
> I've decided to split the court case into the next update....hope that's ok with everyone reading. It seems to work better this way with the update focused on John, Mycroft and Sherlock
> 
> Blue the track is Praise You ( piano version) by Hannah Grace.

" Need to go to Greenwich." Sherlock's text read.  
John felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile as they always did when he got a random text from Sherlock. He texted back " Why?"  
The phone rang... "Can you come? I can't go if you can't." Sherlock's voice said.  
" Yeah? Why though? Sudden need to see the Cutty Sark?"  
"The what? Oh .... yes the ship. Yes.... definately..... that's why I need to go.... History....all very fascinating. Can you come John? Say yes. "

"What about Court.... Don't you want to take it easy ... you've only three hours till you've to be there?"  
"Hours away." Sherlock tried to think of a way to sway John's decision in his favour.... then in a flash of inspiration. "It'll take my mind off Charles.... Come on John. I'm sick of sitting around.... Come and spend a morning with me."  
That did it...as Sherlock knew it would.

"Yeah. Alright, but I'm at work." John could see how Sherlock may need a distraction from facing Magnussen .... looking around a tea clipper that dated from the 1800's sounded pretty harmless. Plus he had his gun if needed. "I'll have to grab a cab...."  
"No need.... Mycroft already sent a car and driver and checked your online schedule."  
John found he wasn't even surprised by that intrusion.  
"I'm outside the hospital.... He wants me to see the Cutty Sark too...."Very worthwhile use of your time" I think he said. Come _on _John.... we could be in Greenwich by now."__

____

It turned out that Mycroft hadn't just sent a car... they also had armed Police outriders who turned on the sirens and flashing lights and whisked them through traffic that moved aside as though they were Royalty.  
"All a bit low key for Mycroft isn't it?" John said sarcastically as the siren wailed.  
Sherlock had been staring out at London with fascinated eyes but turned and gave John a radiantly happy smile. "I talked him into leaving the family standard at home, he wanted it flying from the roof of the car like Royalty."  
John grinned. "I stick mine to the top of the bus into work every morning.." He'd almost forgotten what joking and being stupid with Sherlock felt like.....

"I thought you were cooking up a storm today. Martha said something about a chilli?" John could hear the easy contentment in his own voice.  
Sherlock looked briefly anxious for the first time since John got into the car. "I'm the worst cook ever , you can say it John . I already know. If Alan didn't have an indestructible stomach he'd probably spend every night groaning on the toilet with me apologising endlessly through the door."  
John couldn't stop himself... he burst out laughing ... that mental image was all too possible.

"I haven't laughed like this in way too long." John said once he could control it.  
Sherlock had tilted his head back against the headrest.... "Doesn't Saul make you laugh?" he said.  
John was so surprised by the question he took a minute. "Yeah.... We have fun together." He hesitated, reluctant to let Sherlock think what he had with Saul was something it wasn't. "We both know the score."  
Sherlock frowned. "What score?"  
"We work because neither of us is looking for anything committed ." Even as he said it John knew it wasn't true. "What Saul and me have, is more like an open relationship and that suits us both."  
"You sleep with other people?" Sherlock looked bewildered. "Why?... If you like somebody enough to be with them. Why wouldn't you want to be the only person doing that with them?"  
"It's been a while but yeah.... technically we can do that." John didn't add that saying he wanted that was the best way he'd found to keep Saul...to keep anyone .... from getting seriously involved when he could'nt 100% match those emotions. Though he successfully avoided talking about it in bed or out of it he knew Saul had wanted that open status to change in favour of monogamy for a while now, more so since Sherlock came back on the scene.

"I couldn't." Sherlock sounded faintly queasy. "It took months for things to change like 'that' with Alan. I couldn't start again with anyone else....ever."  
John's stomach clenched in on itself. "Yeah? There's nothing wrong with that... after everything , it's only natural you'd want to feel safe. A traditional relationship can make you feel secure."  
"But you don't need that security? You or Saul?" Sherlock sounded unconvinced . "You don't want a bond.... or children... with someone?"  
John swallowed back the words he couldn't say.... that he wanted all that, everything Alan had, with Sherlock. "A sexual relationship can be different....less conventional.... when it's between two Alpha....when you take secondary gender and family roles out of it."

"So.... you date other Alpha so you don't have to fit into traditional roles?" Sherlock had a puckered line of concentration between his eyebrows. "You don't date Omega?"  
"I have done....I'm attracted to all three genders. With Alpha it's less complicated." John saw Sherlock's inky eyes flick curiously over his face. He knew Sherlock could absorb infomation like a sponge and for the first time in his life , knowing that was happening made him feel exposed. " Greg and I lived together for a while. It didn't work out because of me Sherlock. He wanted to know if I saw us having a future .... I couldn't tell him what he deserved to hear. It's better this way. We stayed friends."

"I still don't understand." Sherlock was unsure.  
John waited for Sherlock to ask for more of an explanation but instead the Omega looked away, staring out of the window at the streets of Victorian houses with one arm blocking his face from view. 

They were nearly at the Cutty Sark when Sherlock's mobile phone buzzed and John saw him look at the screen....."Can we stop the car?" Sherlock asked abruptly.  
"Are you ok? " John was instantly concerned.  
"Can we get out and walk for a few minutes? I need fresh air."  
"Pull over please... Are you feeling nauseous?" John looked out of the car window at the grey stone wall and below it a dark expanse of tidal , mud covered shore. "There's nothing here but mud Sherlock. Where do you want to walk."  
Sherlock had already undone his seat belt.... "Please John. I need to get out. I've never been down to the Thames before."

The exposed shoreline was little more than dark dirty mud and the odd stone or plastic bottle. John stared out across the wide water of the fast moving Thames , beyond that was building after building.... the skyline of the river bank.  
Behind them green fronds of stinking algae covered parts of the stone wall showing the level the water rose to daily.  
John saw Mycroft's agents deploy and watch for danger as the damp wind blew up the short lengths of Sherlock's hair.  
The Omega scanned the mud , walking over to anything that looked to have washed ashore and taking a closer look before standing up and moving on down the mud covered shoreline.

Within minutes John's phone screen lit up with a call.... John saw Mycroft's name and put two and two together. " Mycroft's blowing my phone up. Why are we here Sherlock and don't tell me you came to see the Cutty Sark?"  
He knew there had to be a method behind Sherlock's inexplicable behaviour. A reason why he had wanted to get out the car here.  
Sherlock had crouched down close to what looked like a canvas bag . When he looked up at John he was white faced and his inky eyes looked almost navy. "The tide .... anything that first goes into the water at Wapping docks will end up here eventually."

"So?" John crouched down so he could see Sherlock's face  
Sherlock had pulled a white plastic bag out of his pocket and was pulling a mud sodden green canvas bag up from the mud with some metal meat tongs he'd stolen from the kitchen at 221b.  
"Are those Martha's steak tongs?" John was pretty sure they were.  
"I'll replace them..." Sherlock said. "The river police pulled a murdered Omega out of the water at Greenwich.... I think this was the bag they'd wrapped his head up in before they threw him into the water. Greg wouldn't let me come here and look for it.... It's evidence John.... in a murder case. I had to come here and find it. I knew it would be here....I checked the tides."

John didn't need to answer the furiously buzzing mobile phone in his hand to know he was in deep shit with Mycroft Holmes.  
He looked at the filthy, stinking object hanging from Mrs Husdon's meat tongs and at Sherlock's pale, vulnerable face and made up his mind, hating himself as he did so. " I agreed to take you to a controllable situation where you would be shielded by security Sherlock.... not to bring you here! We're getting back in the car and I'm taking you home. Does Alan even know you went out?"  
"No." There was a look of betrayed disappointment on Sherlock's face before he dropped his head down and fumbled with the plastic bag , trying to get his 'evidence' inside , one handed, without covering himself in mud.

"Let me help." John couldn't stand the way Sherlock had shrunk in on himself...he reached out and held the bag open.... and as Sherlock dropped the mud covered evidence inside he realised something...."That looks like it was a book bag once. School crest , different colours. I see a lot of them as a Doctor....all the Primary school kids have them, Sherlock. They take their reading books to school in them."  
Despite all the tension, Sherlock's face lit up in a eureka moment and John couldn't not smile back.

Once they were back in the car and headed to Baker Street that transient look of happiness and success John had seen on Sherlock's face down on the muddy river bank was long gone.  
Mycroft was not amused. " Need I remind you little brother that you are due in Court this afternoon ...."  
"No... you don't need to remind me."  
"You deceived me .... You lied to us, Sherlock and not for the first time.... " Mycroft's voice was sharp with disapproval. "Is the filthy bank of the river Thames really a suitable place for you to wander about in your condition?"  
Sherlock wrapped an arm over his belly defensively and remained silent.  
"You could have slipped, hurt yourself or the baby .... Not long ago an explosive device was washed up right were you were walking...... Anything could have happened to you? It was totally irresponsible." Mycroft wasn't finished with his lecture.  
Sherlock said nothing.

"I don't know why Gregory saw fit to involve you in this case." Mycroft certainly intended to find out.  
"He doesn't know. I planned it all myself. He wouldn't bring me. I asked him if he'd bring me to see the crime scene, he said no twice...." Sherlock tried to explain. "If he can't solve the case and find the killers it won't be long before another Omega dies .If I can help stop that happening it's worth taking a small risk isn't it?"

Mycroft made absolutely sure he left Sherlock in no doubt how wrong that assumption was. "When your welfare and that of your unborn child is at stake .... no. I am the Dominus of this family Sherlock. I may rarely assert myself as such but in this instance you leave me with no other option.... You simply cannot be trusted."  
John saw Sherlock flush a deep humiliated red. "I'm sorry." He said tonelessly.  
"Becoming a mother comes with responsibilties and expectations and you will alter your behaviour accordingly. Do I make myself clear Sherlock?"

John heard the single sharp intake of breath Sherlock gave before he spoke.... " I already am a mother! I'll have two children when Neep is born .... not one!"  
The silence from Mycroft's end of the phone stretched on for too long.... John watched Sherlock's face change as he realised exactly what that awkwardly long silence meant. 

"Why did you let me think you supported me in trying to have Aleksander with me?  
"Sherlock.... " Mycroft spoke up but it came a little too late to convince. "I do want that for you."  
"Aleksander's my child...." Sherlock said quietly.  
"I am aware." Mycroft's voice was strained.  
"But you can't see why I want him to know who I am?"  
"Of course I do..."  
" No... because of how he was conceived. You can't." Sherlock knew that was why.  
"No Sherlock." Mycroft denied it.

"You don't think I should see him?" Sherlock challenged. "You don't do you?"  
"I have concerns for you....always for you , first and foremost." Mycroft spoke up quickly. " Of course I have doubts. The child will tie you to Magnussen.... parental discussions, visitation when he is young....When he matures...what then? What kind of influence will Magnussen have upon him ? What manner of Elite Alpha will the child become when he is a man, Sherlock? "

Sherlock's mouth was dry.  
"I used to think that. I wouldn't even call him by his name.... he was always more Charles son than mine; in my head , in my heart. Alan used to say Aleksander was 50/50 mine .... but I never really believed him for a long time."

"Sherlock...." Mycroft tried to speak, John could hear the desperation to explain himself in the man's voice.  
"No... please just listen. I know you have'nt met him .... it's not your fault that you don't feel anything for him, yet.... but he didn't ask for anything to be the way it was. He couldn't change any of it, it just happened to him... that's the same as me.... isn't it?"  
Mycroft could hear Sherlock's urgent need to convince.  
" He is so little of course he'll have changed but.... not fundamentally. He likes to do things for himself, he didn't give up if something was hard , he kept trying. He always wants to please Charles." Sherlock took a deep breath against the flood of painful memories. "Birthday cake, that's his favourite.... He sucked his thumb when he was sleepy but he always hid it so Charles wouldn't see... and he's much heavier than he looks if you let him fall asleep on you. Alan says that means his bones are solid which has to be good because he won't break an arm climbing trees in the orchard like I did."  
He stopped talking, faced with nothing but a stiff silence.

Mycroft concentrated on the sound of Sherlock's distress .... on his rapid shallow breathing.  
As a list of everything Sherlock remembered it was distressingly little to know about your own child.  
The silence helped . The blessed absence of words .... of Sherlock's attempts at persuasion.... was a relief. It gave time to think and assemble new facts.  
Sherlock had already imagined the child playing in the garden of their childhood home. That was unexpected.  
He'd talked about the child with Alan. When had he done that? Did the man truly want Magnussen's cuckoo in his nest?

At some time Sherlock had held the child as he slept.... had cradled Aleksander's sleeping weight long enough to find it heavy.  
Magnussen's son had already found a way to get close to Sherlock....  
The prospect of Sherlock loving the child was concerning.  
Mycroft remembered the way Sherlock would fidget on his knee as he grew sleepy, the sweet milky smell of the Omega child's hair and skin, the small, dexterous hands finally relaxed and still.  
Sleep implied a level of trust...

"I was wrong to assume I knew how you felt. That was presumptive of me." Mycroft listened to Sherlock breathing. "It's difficult for me to imagine .... perhaps when I meet him." His deceit was smothered in the carefully chosen neutral words.  
Sherlock's sigh was one of sheer relief. "That's all I'm asking. I know you'll love him when you get to know him."


	39. Out Run The Dark Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Sherlock have their first appointment with a sex therapist.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this late last night and decided to add it in ...I think it makes sense to have some therapy beginning.  
> Sorry to be juggling the update order at this late stage but hopefully it works.
> 
> Pegging out your manky washing for the neighbours to gawp at.... manky means dirty and gawp means stare. It basically means letting people see the things you should keep hidden.  
> Boot in the stones...a kick in the balls!
> 
> Blue the track is Silhouette by Tom Grennan.

Riddick gave a morose look at the selection of posters facing him on the free clinic wall.... warnings about what colour discharge indicated infection proliferated, alongside smear test reminders and bowel cancer symptom lists....  
He nudged Sherlock's thigh with his own to get the Omega's attention and nodded at the lurid posters. "It's enough to put you right off bedding anyone," Alan muttered in a low voice that turned out not to be quite as low as he'd intended. Three people in the row of seats opposite and the receptionist looked up...  
Sherlock ducked his head down with a smile and pressed the length of his lean thigh back against Alan's. 

"Next...." The ginger haired Scottish receptionist called out.  
From Dundee. Lived in London... 5 ...no 6 years working here.... rides a bike into work, helmet hair... single and not happy about that.. no pets. Sherlock worked out what he could see while Alan handed over the forms Sherlock had been busily completing.  
"William and.... Alan Riddick...." As soon as the receptionist read Alan's name he narrowed his eyes and gave the Alpha a witheringly prissy glance. " I remember the name. We spoke on the phone...."  
Alan remembered swearing frustratedly down the phone at someone with a Scottish accent who was being a bloody obstructive pain in his arse only the day before..... "Aye , that'd be me." He admitted ruefully. "Sorry about that."  
Neil, the receptionist, adjusted the sign on his desk that said NO ABUSE OR SWEARING AT STAFF WILL BE TOLERATED so it pointed towards Riddick and gave Alan the type of look gardener's normally reserve for a slug on a prize winning rose.  
"Sorry about that." Alan repeated again.  
"Down the corridor. Room 5" Neil said casting a sympathetic 'can't imagine what you have to put up with dating this one' look at Sherlock.

Inside the cosy room a two seater sofa faced an Ikea chair with a box of tissues prominently placed on a low coffee table in between.  
"Jesus...." Alan said, the huge box of tissues implied a lot of sessions ended in tears. Hopefully not his bloody own.  
Sherlock took off the sunglasses he'd been wearing to prevent anyone in the waiting room recognising him and Alan pulled off his Nike hat, leaving his dark hair sticking up in choppy layers.  
The Omega took a look around at the neutrally soothing cream walls and the small pine bookcase full of psychology books  
A framed photo of a black dog with incredibly long , corded hair like dreadlocks caught his eye the same time it caught Alan's.  
" Not seen a dog like that before .Hard to tell which end's the arse and which is the head if you'd to put a lead on it." Alan remarked dryly.  
Sherlock was giggling when the door opened.

Sandals and socks .... the phrase was stuck on repeat running obstructively through Sherlock's mind for several minutes as introductions were being made. It slowed the speed of his deductions down.  
Sandals....socks..... and the hairiest ankles Sherlock had ever seen on a man. Literally like a spider.....  
Omega..... Really hairy for an Omega.....  
Maybe 40 years old...could be less?  
Tall.... gangly and.... vegan, like Lars? Been to Nepal in the last year......  
Neep gave a series of hard kicks and completely lost Sherlock his concentration.... Sherlock ignored him studiously.

"Hello.... Alan .... William.... nice to meet you both. I'm Rob Hardcock... I'll be working with you for these sessions."  
Alan's mouth gave a telltale twitch, he cleared his throat to hide the dangerous urge to laugh and avoided catching Sherlock's eye....only to see the lad was looking desperately down at his own lap and hiding his own inappropiate attack of hysterical giggles.  
Hardcock the sex therapist.... you couldn't make it up.

Once they were seated Rob gave them a friendly smile. "You had no problem finding us then?" The clinic was in a mews off the main street and people often struggled.  
"Aye no problem at all." Alan didn't add that Sherlock had deduced 'sex clinic appointment embarassment' on the faces of an Alpha and his Omega and they'd simply followed them right to the door.  
"Yorkshire accent?" Rob said. "I used to live up that way myself in Hawes ."  
" Aye I know it. I haven't been back there in years." Alan wanted to avoid being asked what part he was from.... where he came from wasn't picturesque.

"You didn't lose the accent though." Rob said. "What about you William , are you a Yorkshire man too?"  
Sherlock knew the second he answered his Elite accent would give his status away...even if another Omega wouldn't have scented him."No." He hesitated... did he say his family home, or Baker Street ...."London."  
"I live in Islington, myself. We've been talking about moving out but last year we finally admitted leaving the city felt wrong. We'd miss the convenience and the bustle." If Rob was surprised by the Elite accent in a free clinic he hid it well.  
" We lived months off-grid in Finland. I love both.... the city and the quiet." Sherlock said and Rob noticed the Omega shift a little closer to Alan. The Alpha leant back , allowing William to lean into his side with the ease of long practise.  
That was interesting.....no obvious issue with affectionate touching between the pair .  
There was something familiar about the Omega 's face but Rob couldn't work out where he'd seen it before.

"And is this your first experience with sexual counselling?"  
"Yeah... for both of us." Alan sounded dubious.  
"I know it's a fairly intimidating prospect but for most people once we get started its actually a relief."  
"Not as bad as people think?" Alan checked.  
"Apparently not..." Rob said with a relaxed smile. " I should add before we start that demand for this service is very high and should you choose to attend we would ask that you attend all appointments promptly and ring to cancel at least 24 hours in advance if you can't make it so we can offer somebody else the slot."  
"We may miss the odd time...." Alan was already worried about the chances of making every session between Court and the antenatal check up's.  
"We'll try not too, " Sherlock added. "it's just we're often busy at short notice.... We will try " he ended weakly, unable to say 'I'm hiding a pregnancy.... in bond court and trying not to go insane most days'.  
"Good... that's all we ask. We do understand life can make its own unpredictable demands on anyone." Rob said. 

"For therapy to work saying what's on your mind is important... even if it sounds silly.... don't hold back." Rob said. "Sex has this reputation of being a sensitive topic but in here we want both of you to feel comfortable talking openly."  
"Heard it all before?" Alan sounded a little cynical.  
"Oh I'd never say that.... but I'm open minded." Rob said calmly. "How do you both feel about being here?"  
Alan sighed.... "Wouldn't be my choice... pegging my manky washing out for all the neighbours to gawp at my mother would have called it.... but I'd do anything for the lad."  
"It's natural to feel a bit exposed to begin with, it gets easier in time.... and you, William?" Rob asked.  
Sherlock looked at Alan before he spoke. "Same as Alan.... I don't like talking.... about sex."  
Rob waited for William to speak.....  
Sherlock waited for Alan to intercede...  
"We just want things to be right between us..." Alan said into the silence. "In bed and out of it."  
Sherlock snuck his hand into Alan's hiding their hands low down on the sofa between them.

"Would it be fair to say there is a specific issue causing problems between you sexually?"  
"Me .... " Sherlock said it as he saw it. "The problem is me."  
Alan's head jerked round to face Sherlock. "That's not true lad."  
"Why would you say that William?" Rob asked kindly.  
"It's me.... I can't..." Sherlock looked at Alan.... the prompt for Alan to speak for him as clear as if it had been spoken aloud.  
Like a well oiled machine Alan took over seamlessly. "It's not his fault.... "  
"Let's move away from the idea that anyone is to blame.... there is no right way to have sex.... the aim is that both of you enjoy giving and receiving pleasure and touch in a sexual context." Rob said mildly.  
"Aye but ... " Alan began to say when Sherlock spoke up and he instantly fell silent.  
"I'm breaking my bond legally.... it was .... abusive.... Alan's never hurt me, he's kind and gentle.... It's me.... I can't get my mind to make my body relax when we...." Sherlock flushed a deep shamed red...."When we have....anal ... and some other things...."

" The relationship was sexually abusive?" At Sherlock's small nod Rob threaded all the boy had said together. "Can sex be painful at times William?"  
"I'd never hurt him.... Never... Not knowingly." Alan said defensively.  
Sherlock squeezed Alan's hand hard. " I want to do it.... but then we do and it's good until it isn't.... it's like I'm back.... where I used to be."  
Rob nodded understandingly. "Ok... thank you for having the courage to share that William."

"I trigger him sometimes...." Alan's voice was low. "I'll forget and touch him and put him back like he's still there...."  
"That's not your fault." Sherlock said fiercely, "you should be able to stroke my hair without me freaking out."  
"When you do trigger a fear reaction, how does that make you feel Alan? Can you tell William himself... just speak to him?"  
"Like someone with more brains should give me a good boot in the stones." Alan admitted. "I know what you went through lad.... I should know bloody better. I get lost in the moment."  
Sherlock had given up all pretence that he wasn't holding Alan's hand , he had the Alpha's hand pulled on top of his thigh, pale fingers twisted in between tanned ones. Locked together in support.  
"And William? How do you feel when something Alan does triggers you?"  
"Sometimes.... like it's hopeless... I want to be there .... with Alan.... I want everything.... I love him more than I've ever loved anyone.... and I still can't keep Charles from ruining it for me..."

"Charles ... is that your Alpha's name?" As Rob said it he suddenly realised he'd seen the boy's beautiful face somewhere that morning .....  
"Charles is not my Alpha... not in any way I accept. Alan's my Alpha....even without the bond, Alan's mine. We're good together." Sherlock rushed the words out. "I never loved Charles. I was just something he owned like a painting or a vase. I was never a person to him."  
Rob knew then where he had seen this boy's face before. Plastered all over every national newspaper.... Charles Magnussen's estranged bond mate was in his office.... which meant the Alpha with him was the ex bodyguard.....  
He took a measured breath in and exhaled mindfully.... "Since I came in I've observed you both....plenty of affectionate body language and mutual touching.... you both support each other physically and emotionally. That's a positive for therapy. It's good to see."

Alan gave Sherlock a smile and got a hopeful one back.  
"You know who we are don't you?" Sherlock seemed certain.  
"I think so.... you're Sherlock Holmes?"  
The boy nodded.  
"So can you help us?" Alan asked flatly.  
"If you do... be aware a man in a black car will probably kidnap you off the street and make you sign something to be sure you understand the full lethal repercussions of discussing anything we say..." Sherlock said.  
Rob laughed thinking it a joke..... then said..."You aren't joking are you?"  
Alan laughed wryly.  
"No.... my brother worries." Sherlock explained.  
" We respect patient confidentiality here ....Yes, I think I can help you both." Rob said in answer to Sherlock and the question Alan had asked him. 

"I'm going to give you some exercises to do at home . You should allow yourself plenty of time. Turn off the tv and phones . Concentrate on each other..... The aim is to improve communication and intimacy.  
The first is called Three Things..... you can play this as much as you like, whenever you like. The aim of the game is to find out some basic facts about your partner.... for example, you Sherlock may ask Alan what three things he'd take with him to a desert island..."  
Sherlock laughed. "That's easy.... weights, running shoes and...."  
" You... soft lad. I'd take you.... top of any list." Alan said with a deep smile. He raised Sherlock's hand to his mouth and kissed it.

Nice to see. Rob added "And Alan you get to ask Sherlock your 3 questions ... I would suggest that you both avoid sexual questions for now....keep it based on getting to know each other. Keep it light and fun."  
"Right." Alan agreed readily.  
"At this stage I usually recommend you both agree to abstain from sexual contact.... it takes the pressure off while we work on the foundations of your relationship."  
Alan looked less than thrilled with that idea but he remained silent. 

"The second exercise is called Soul Gaze. I'd like you to sit facing each other and look into each others eyes. It'll feel awkward to start so I'd recomend some music playing in the background.... just maintain the eye contact for 4-5 minutes of timed focus....no need to talk, just focus on seeing the soul behind the eyes. That would be a daily thing."  
"Any music?" Alan asked.  
Sherlock poked him in the rib with a shy smile...."Not Black Sabbath."  
Rob chuckled. " If it works for you....but we do have a relaxation CD of mindful music...."  
Alan gave a snort. "Whales and waves or that Andean pipe stuff....? Yeah...? That's not my thing."  
"Violin?" Sherlock said hopefully. The suggestion won him a relieved smile from Riddick.  
"Classical? That would be perfect Sherlock." Rob said.

As the session drew to a close Rob thanked the pair for coming and offered a follow up appointment and agreed a time.  
"Have you any questions you'd like to ask me before we finish up for today?"  
Sherlock shrugged.  
"Aye...." Alan gestured at the photo on the wall. "What fancy breed of dog is that and which end is the head?" He asked with a grin as Sherlock started laughing.  
"It's a Puli, a Hungarian breed used to herd sheep. I'll bring him in another time if you'd like to meet him?" Rob offered.  
"What's his name?" Sherlock asked.  
" Bob...You like dogs, Sherlock? "  
"I had a red setter. Redbeard."  
" Oh they're beautiful dogs. Wonderful coats. My bondmate and I got Bob to show him...he's won a good few rosettes for best of breed."  
"Bob? " Seemed a odd name for a fancy breed to Alan.  
"Bob after Marley...the dreadlocks you see?." came the reply. 

 

Outside in the narrow mews street Alan held the door as Sherlock ducked into the back of an unmarked Police car.  
"Rob Hardcock...." Alan said with a grin.  
Sherlock gave a big grin back. "I like him," he was sure,.  
"Aye ... me too lad. Me too." Alan saw a posh black car idling at the end of the mews as they turned onto the main street. "Is that your brother?"  
Sherlock stared out the tinted windows of their car as it passed the other vehicle. "Yes."  
"Didn't take him long. " Alan said gloomily.


	40. Order...Order....Order!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock struggles to talk about a past he wishes he could delete...  
> Aric leaves him with no place to hide from a painful truth in order to begin to win the empathy of the Court....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aric may seem unkind but if he is to break Sherlock's bond he can't afford to be sensitive... He needs to influence and win the sympathy of the Judges and the public.
> 
> Thanks Blue....for anorher great bail out when I had nothing by way of a track. I love it...its perfect.  
> Haunted Ocean from Waltz with Bashir OST.

"Back into the fray." Nigel remarked. "I'd a bloody good steak for my lunch at Castros with a decent full bodied Chilean red...can't recomend it too highly." He dried his hands. " I wonder what Weber has in store for us this afternoon."  
"Hmmph....he handles an Omega well , I'll give him that."Mungo said.  
The Legate adjusted his rich scarlet robes and the heavy silver chain of office about his neck. "He's an interesting character, for a German.... but the boy's looking peaky wouldn't you say? I can't see him lasting the afternoon. Wouldn't be surprised if Weber asks for another break once the going gets difficult. "  
Mungo gave a harsh, barking laugh."Siger Holmes would turn in his grave if he saw this damnable disgrace....his only Omega son refusing to spread his legs for his bonded Alpha... if he was still alive that boy would be thrashed and back in bed with Magnussen, where he belongs, by the end of the day.... ." 

Sherlock's hand shook as he picked up the water glass and it spilt cold over his fingers before he put it down and wiped his palm against his thigh.  
"Your father made several changes to your daily routine as you reached puberty did he not?"  
"Yes."  
"And your mother consented to these changes?"  
" I don't think he was asked ."  
Aric almost sighed. The short answers, while understandable, did Sherlock no favours when it came to winning empathy from the Court. "What were the changes Sherlock?"  
"I wasn't to go outside into the grounds anymore. I was to stay in the house." Sherlock glanced nervously Magnussen's way as he answered, looking away as Milne wrote something on a piece of paper and slid it over to be read by Charles, who wrote something and pushed it back over the table.  
"And the purpose of these restrictions?" Weber filled a pipe even though he couldn't smoke it in the court room. He was aware Sherlock's eyes had fixed on the repetitive actions of fingers and tobacco with sheer relief at the visual distraction.  
"Objection....As my Honourable colleague knows well Sherlock can't attest to the reason for any changes Siger Holmes may have implemented!" Milne drawled.

"Actually I can...." Sherlock's spoke up just as the Legate was about to agree with Milnes objection.  
Sir Aubyn gave Sherlock a measured look. "Would you care to ask Sherlock to elaborate further Herr Weber?"  
" Yes. Thank you Legate. Sherlock.... did Siger talk with you about the reasons for this change?" Aric asked gently.  
Sherlock was bone white. " He never talked with me ... he talked at me. He said I couldn't be trusted outside. I thought he meant my experiments , I was collecting skulls.... a vole skull... a squirrel... bird skulls. There was a fox skull but I hadn't got it from the gamekeeper's fence yet"  
"Gamekeepers fence?" Aric had no idea what Sherlock meant.  
Mungo barked a laugh out. "Gamekeepers hang the vermin ...weasels, foxes, magpies... after it's shot or trapped."  
Aric was surprised. "And you'd seen a fox on this fence of corpses ?"  
"Yes... I was going to boil the head once the body fell to the ground and it would come away from the spine." Sherlock said.  
Not for the first time his unusual answer drew the Legate's steady interest.

"Siger didn't say it was forever at first... when I asked if I could go swim in the lake with Mycroft .... or down to the maze... he said no everytime. He said that for a week and I asked every day so then I asked 'Why was I being punished? What had I done?'... and he sent me to my room." Sherlock refused to look away from Mycroft. "When I was allowed out I started asking again.... it was summer .... it was hot.... everybody was outside on the lawn.... I wanted to sit with Mycroft in the garden, he studied there on a blanket.... I could see him from the window." Sherlock took a breath in and stopped.  
"You were indoors missing out on the summer holidays and sun? It must have felt very unfair?" Aric could imagine the frustration.  
" I thought it was stupid and I said so. I was caned for that.... I had to apologise after, for being impudent. Siger said I lacked manners , pestering him every day, that I needed to learn to show respect for him to reconsider .... so I didn't ask then , I waited a whole week then I asked again .... it was still no.... Two weeks ..... no.... Three weeks , I was going mad....cooped up....he said I still wasn't respectful enough..... Five weeks , I begged him.... after Sunday lunch in front of everybody.... 'Please , can I go outside for the last week of the holiday .... just the lawn....not even the woods or the maze.... just the lawn, where everyone could still see me from the house'....I was an idiot to even think he'd listen.."

John heard Mycroft say Sherlock's name in a low, pained voice that was never meant for anyone to overhear.  
"He said no.... it was time I understood.... that my life wasn't going to be the same as Mycroft's..... That my value to an Alpha lay between the cheeks of my arse and not in my mind.... ...He said I'd have a cock in me soon enough.. "  
"Silence..." The usher yelled as a low buzz of comment ran around the courtroom.

"How old were you Sherlock?" Weber's voice was a point of calm to focus on.  
"13."  
"And how long did this restriction remain in place. How long were you confined to the house for?"  
Sherlock looked surprised that Weber had failed to understand. "That was it, Siger said it.... I wasn't going to be allowed outside again. That wouldn't change until I was bonded, then it would become my new Alpha's decision. There were a few times , behind his back.... Mycroft let me stand outside on the terrace when father was away but I couldn't go more than a few steps from the house in case anyone saw and told. Once or twice we went up onto the roof , you can see for miles.... but I didn't get to go outside into the estate by myself again... I could go anywhere inside the house, except Siger's own rooms ....school was all Omega so there it was still ok.... but I never went outside on my own again.... and after I was bonded to Charles I always had a bodyguard with me."

Aric stood and placed his pipe in his mouth before he removed it, drawing every eye before he spoke. "And the need for such extreme measures? Did Siger explain that?"  
Sherlock looked away from everyone looking at him , down at the polished wood of the witness stand before answering. "So I would stay a virgin. There had to be no doubt. To arrange a bond .... nobody would want me if I wasn't untouched."  
"At 13? Siger saw a potential risk of an Alpha showing sexual interest in you? In a Omega boy of that age?" Aric let his astonishment colour his voice.  
"Objection.... speculation as I'm sure Mr Weber is aware!" Milne roared.  
"Agreed.... consider that question struck out. Do not answer it Sherlock." The Legate spoke with steely authority. "Confine yourself to the facts Herr Weber."

"As far as you were aware Sherlock.... had any interest in a bond with you been shown by an Elite Alpha?"  
"I don't think so... Siger would have said, just to scare me...." Sherlock was muted.  
"The idea of being bonded scared you?" Aric asked clearly.  
"Yes... Having to leave home and my brother ...yes. It scared me."  
"But a offer to bond you was made within the year despite the fact that you were confined to boarding school and indoors at your family estate?" Weber's voice was the only sound in the packed courtroom.  
Sherlock took hold of his glass of water in both hands and finally managed to take a desperate mouthful. "Yes."  
"The offer came from Charles Magnussen?" Aric waited for Sherlock to say the words.  
"Yes."  
" How old were you?"  
"Three months away from being 14."  
"And how did Charles come to make such an offer? How did he meet you to decide you were an Omega he felt he could bond with?" Aric played Devil's advocate.  
Sherlock sounded unwell. "He came backstage at a ballet at school....I was the principal dancer. He held onto my hand after he kissed it. The lines of my body... he said they drew his eye. Beautiful... he said that. He had hold of my hand.... I wanted to take it away, he felt clammy but that isn't allowed from an Omega so I didn't...I waited until he let go.... He said he'd see me again very soon."  
"And did he?"  
"Not right away....a week later he started sending me gifts.... to the school."

 

The Legate leant forward watching Sherlock's responses closely. The Omega had been talking for over two hours now , listing the increasingly expensive gifts he'd returned and the polite letter he'd written asking Magnussen to stop sending anymore. There was a school trip Magnussen had clearly manufactured to set eyes on the teenage Omega again ..... When the focus of this obsession was a child who had not yet reached heat....it was unorthodox and disturbing.  
The Holmes boy looked exhausted, his reluctance to say more all too clear.

"Think carefully before you answer Sherlock.... did Siger mention that Charles Magnussen had expressed an interest in bonding you?"  
Sherlock fidgeted in his chair. "Yes."  
" And did he ask how you would feel about such a match?"  
"No but I said anyway...I said I didn't want it. I wanted to finish school... Wait at least until I was 16."  
" And did Siger respond to those doubts? Did he seek to reassure you?"  
Sherlock shook his head. "He shouted at me, for giving an opinion unasked....he said he should have no need to remind me of his authority over me and I was never to speak out of turn again."

"The common age for an Alpha to show interest in bonding an Elite Omega is usually 16, did you know that Sherlock?"  
" No. I didn't know." Sherlock said faintly.  
"Did Siger express an opinion one way or another about Magnussen's offer and the age difference between you?"  
" No. Not his age.... He only said Charles would have to dig deeper and offer a lot more if he wanted to be the first Alpha to open my arse. Whoever from an acceptable family offered the most could have me." Sherlock tried to take another gulp of water and spilt it everywhere.

"Something else happened at that time didn't it Sherlock?"  
Sherlock shook his head wordlessly.  
"Something took place between Siger and you in his study Sherlock?" Aric probed for the facts he already knew as Sherlock shrank from saying it.  
"It's not important..." Sherlock pleaded. "I never should have said...." He looked apologetically at Mycroft's horrified face.  
Aric pried Sherlock's revelation from him.... aware the Omega would never say it freely. "In fact he began to behave inappropiately didn't he, Sherlock? Your own father.... in your own home , where you should have felt safe and protected? Having insisted on the importance of your absolute virginity... What did he do , Sherlock?"  
Sherlock shook his head.... staring blankly at an ashen faced Mycroft as his brother stared distraught from his seat at the witness box...  
In the end it was Mycroft's appalled pain that Sherlock answered, not Weber's question.... the ugly truth he'd hidden for years spilling out. " He started talking to me ....about sex.... I asked to be excused, to go to my room.... As I went past him he put his hands on my hips .... pressed me.... against his body ..." Sherlock looked away from Mycroft. "His penis was hard.... I pulled away , he let go... it was over in seconds. He was angry with me... he said I was frigid, a freak...a reeking hole of an Omega , he called me that ."  
There was a shocked ripple of voices around the court.  
"Siger kept a display of Alpha/Omega erotica within his private study didn't he Sherlock? Did he show that to you at this time?"  
" Objection... Herr Weber is leading his witness!" Milne objected vociferously.  
"Agreed. Strike the question from Court records. You will refrain from influencing your witness Herr Weber. Move on."

"Did Siger Holmes ever touch you on another occasion?" Weber waited for silence ...when he spoke his voice showed his utter condemnation of how Sherlock had been treated.  
"No... I avoided him. I pretended I was ill until the holiday ended and I went back to school. It wasn't entirely a lie, I did feel ill..... He died when I was back at school that first term."

"Charles Magnussen made a second offer to bond you following your father's death.... What was your mother's response?"  
"Mummy accepted it and signed the papers.... he said Charles could have me."  
Aric frowned. "Why would your mother agree so readily to a bond when Siger hadn't before?"  
"Mummy said there were debts... secured on the estate.... all the creditors wanted money now Siger was dead. Charles had bought up all the outstanding debts ....so he was the only person who could ruin us.... He could take everything ... the house and the land... He owned it all."  
"So a deal was struck?" Weber said.  
"Yes. Mummy said Charles offered to sign it all back.... it would all still be there for Mycroft to inherit....if he got what he wanted in exchange." Sherlock looked for Riddick and found the man's steady, loving eyes on him already.  
"What did Charles Magnussen want in exchange for such an extraordinary decision?"  
"He wanted me... at my first heat..That started to happen three weeks after my 14th birthday.." Sherlock said dully.

"At 13 Charles Magnussen bought you in exchange for writing off your late father's debts? At 14 a bond match and sexual intercourse took place between you despite your stated lack of consent to any of it? "  
"Objection! The boy was bonded not bought .... my Honorable friend knows the difference between a legal bond match and slavery!" Milne roared.  
"In this instance? I'm not certain it's clear! Pray explain it to me since it is apparently discernible to you?" Aric said sarcastically.... " A virgin Omega boy was bought and paid for like any purchase....despite being two years under the commonly acceptable age for such advances to be made.... I put it before the Court that Charles Magnussen saw what he wanted....took steps to attain the necessary financial leverage to make refusal impossible... he paid off Siger Holmes numerous debts and in doing so effectively reserved Sherlock to be raped at his first heat!"  
"Objection! Objection! Objection!" Milne was on his feet, shouting the words. Sherlock gave a choked sound and swayed grey faced in his chair as the court exploded into uproar!

The Legate bought down the gavel repeatedly and raised his voice harshly. "Silence! There will be order in my court! Order!...... Mr Weber your witness looks unwell .... as well he might! There will be a short recess of half an hour.... I suggest you fetch a Doctor to establish Sherlock is well enough to continue! "


	41. Every Move You Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Team decide that Sherlock can't continue.  
> After the shock of hearing that Sherlock had not been safe from Siger's advances Mycroft is struggling to adapt....the horrendous migraine he is suffering from makes everything much more difficult.  
> In the Legate's Chamber , under increasing pressure and deliberate provocation from Charles Magnussen , Mycroft's health suddenly deteriorates.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mystery of Hoi's whereabouts is solved....  
> Next update ... Sherlock's POV...and a death.....
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Every Breath You Take ( Re-imagine ) by Denmark and Winter.

"John, is Sherlock well enough to continue or do we ask to leave Court until tomorrow?" Mycroft asked, the steadily escalating pain in his head making his voice sound strained.  
"I don't give a fuck about tomorrow. I want to get him out of this shithole today. This sodding stress isn't good for him or the baby." Riddick was openly truculent. "The Legate said to get a doctor to examine Sherlock .... that right? You're a doctor, John.. you can call it can't you? What are we bloody waiting for?"  
"John...in your opinion...?" Mycroft tried again.  
" I don't know, Mycroft. How the Hell am I meant to examine him when he's locked himself in a toilet cubicle?" John snapped and lost his temper. "If you'd both stop telling me how to do my damn job, maybe I could get somewhere!"  
Greg was trained to read the body language of a potential threat and the rising signs of testorone fuelled, Alpha aggression Alan and John were both showing concerned him. "Look I think we all need to calm down."

John took a deep breath. He could still hear the heady aggressive tension in his voice as he spoke and he fought to keep his voice calm. "Sherlock.... we can leave Court if that's what you want .... but the clock's ticking on that half hour the Legate gave us. I need to check you over now."  
Mycroft pressed two fingers against the pain running around his eye socket, he could do nothing about the frustrated tension in his voice or the lack of patience it caused as he said..."Sherlock, for Heavens sake.... if you refuse to come out , the thirty minutes adjourment will be over and the Usher will call us back into Court. If you refuse you'll be held in contempt."  
"Sherlock.... for fucks sake....Please lad. Just open the door..." Alan pleaded.  
There was no reply.... then the lock slid open.

"Well John?" Mycroft kept one eye on the ticking clock and the other on the lowered head and averted body of his brother. Sherlock had neither looked up nor spoken since coming out. His avoidance was absolute.  
"Pulse is rapid and erratic. Yeah I'm calling it... he's in no fit state to go back in there." John signed and held out the exemption forms already filled in.  
Weber gave a final placid exhalation of tobacco smoke. "Very well. I'll request a meeting with the Legate in his Chamber. Milne will have to be present of course and Magnussen. We require his consent to suspend proceedings." As the lawyer stood he laid a hand on Sherlock's thin shoulder. "A mere formality."  
Mycroft watched Alan Riddick's broad hand rub soothing heat along Sherlock's hunched spine. "I'll go with you Herr Weber. I may be of more use there."  
Alan had crouched down to see Sherlock's face clearly for the first time...."Oh lad.... It's alright. We're going home now." 

The Legate's Chamber overlooked the central courtyard. Oak panelled and timeless the deep, mullioned windows looked out onto a slice of London that had remained unchanged for centuries.  
Sir Aubyn had removed his heavy silver gilt chain of office and it hung on the traditional dark oak T frame over by the wall. Each solid link reflectted a point of brightness from the fire into the dark walled room. " A difficult day all round. You look none too well yourself Mycroft, " he observed.  
"A headache. The weather . Most unfortunate." Mycroft kept each sentence short, the pain around his eye all consuming.  
"Can I offer you a brandy? It may knock the pain on the head. Herr Weber, do you partake?"  
"I do."  
A glass, suitably filled with a stiff measure appeared in front of Mycroft and another in front of Weber. Sir Aubyn settled back into his chair. " The subject matter isn't helping of course. The relationship between Siger and Sherlock .... very sad state of affairs"  
"Yes..." Mycroft admitted flatly.

"Charles is willing to provide his own private physician to examine Sherlock and see if he can continue." Milne made the offer. "Dr Hoi is well aware of Sherlock's tendancy to be , shall we say....somewhat neurotic."  
"That is unacceptable. Sherlock has already been examined by a doctor. Too do so again would simply disturb him." Mycroft had lost parts of his vision to a blur of confusing colours. He steadied his hand as he took a measured mouthful of brandy. The idea of Sherlock being subjected to any examination by Hoi sickened him beyond words.  
Milne took a sip of his own brandy. " We can insist of course.... Sherlock is the property of Charles .... as such his welfare and health are of prime concern to his Alpha."

"Let's avoid going down that route. I'm sure Herr Weber would simply move to block any such attempt legally and tie us up in extra court time none of us want." Sir Aubyn's reply was measured but authoritative.  
Milne gave a sharp edged smile as he remarked...."Perhaps the stress of being away from his bonded Alpha during his heats is beginning to tell."  
"A headache. Nothing more." Aric lit his pipe and breathed a dismissive wreath of smoke over the table in Milnes direction. 

"Nevertheless.... I am minded to send Hoi to examine him and ensure nothing has been overlooked." Magnussen lifted his glass and drank before adding. "Sherlock will soon be returned to me. I would prefer him to be in breedable condition when he is. John Watson is more accustomed to the brawny body of a fellow Common Alpha than the delicacy of an Elite boy. Who knows if his examination of Sherlock was thorough enough."  
Mycroft stared icily at Charles, focusing all his loathing on the blurred face and hated voice. Images of the sadistic medical examinations Hoi had inflicted upon Sherlock eddied disgustingly through his mind. "Dr. John Watson was in the R.A.M.C , he is currently employed by Barts hospital in its emergency and trauma unit. Any such insinuations you could make about his competance are absurd. He is a doctor of considerable ability."  
" Insinuations?.... I am entitled to state my concern for my Omega." Charles shook his head with a smile, as though Mycroft had made a joke he found dryly amusing.... " I had hoped you would have come to terms with your brother's Omega status as my mate by now but I see you still resent it. Sherlock is mine.... legally bonded. As his Alpha, his well being .... particularly his mental stability, which has always been questionable... remain my prime concern." Magnussen observed the expanded pupil in Mycroft's eye widen.... he smiled , enjoying the sign of Mycroft's agony, knowing full well what it indicated  
Mycroft replaced his glass on the table, taking great care to do so precisely. When he spoke he did so through a pain that had cost him much of his vision in the one affected eye. "Sherlock's mental stability has never been in doubt, as you know well. Since he has been in my care, in a place of safety, he has flourished." Mycroft knew if he showed any weakness in his reaction or lost his control, Magnussen would take full advantage .

"As the Legate is happy to consider Sherlock's withdrawl from Court today on the grounds of temporary ill health can I assume , since you are so very concerned for his well being, that you are in agreement. Sherlock can leave Court?" Weber was direct.  
"I'm sure we all want what is best for Sherlock.... if the boy is unwell , of course he must rest." Sir Aubyn adjudicated. "Are we all agreed to postpone ?"  
"Indeed. Unless Sherlock is faltering and giving up at such an early stage in proceedings?" Milne looked amused by the prospect.  
Aric puffed heavily on his pipe, smoke filled the air as he breathed it out. "Having had the privilege to spend time with Sherlock I can set your mind at rest.... he may look fragile but he has a inner strength that is not, I think, easily crushed. You would know that side of him well would you not Mr Magnussen?"

Charles eyes were filled with a cold antipathy as he looked at Weber. "You may tell him his son asked for him again today. The child has measles.... As all sick children do he demands his mother. Of course I was compelled to explain why his mother will not come.... A difficult situation given Aleksander's tender age."

Demands ....? What a telling turn of phrase. So.... Magnussen's son 'demanded' , like father like son.... like Siger.....  
_Come here boy... Do as you are told Sherlock. Be quiet and come here _...."Siger's voice resonated through Mycroft's memory.__  
All those times the study door had remained firmly closed and afterwards Sherlock had been sent straight to his room....  
Why had he not questioned it? What more had he never been told?  
How many secrets had Sherlock kept?

____

It was impossible to ignore the blinding pressure any longer.  
If he did not leave now.....  
The scent of tobacco was nauseating.  
Around him the voices had become fused into one.  
A cacophony. Sickening and disorientating as he rose unsteadily to his feet..  
The room swirled darkly around him as the floor rose up to meet him.....


	42. Closing Ranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is missing ....without his organised protecion Sherlock is vulnerable.  
> The remaining team close ranks ....with the usual argument between John and Riddick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any words in Italics are text messages .  
> Summat ....means Something.  
> Owt to mither...anything to annoy.  
> A brew...tea.
> 
> Ok I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it but I've added another update instead of using the one that I'd already written....the story needs more of a feeling of threat here and some BAMF team IMO... anyway I apologise if you were expecting a Sherlock/Mycroft focused update....that is coming up....as is some CAM . 
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is This Moment by Chase and Status & Blossoms.

Greg checked his phone .... nothing.  
Mycroft wasn't picking up his calls and had simply disappeared.  
The court aide who appeared in the room had said the Legate had arranged the use of his personal car and chaffeur, who were waiting outside for them, but given them no further excuses or explanations. She'd been polite but not helpful, a blank face.  
Something important was going down , that much was clear.  
Greg wasn't blind, in his work he learn to read all the telltale signs and he'd seen that same haunted look on Mycroft's aristocratic face that he'd seen on the faces of hundreds of partners of abusers down the years ..... he was sure, the news about Siger Holmes had come as a shock but he was just as sure it was already a dark suspicion somewhere in Mycroft's mind.  
_I'm here if you need to talk. Sherlock wants you here. ___

____

Alan couldn't bloody believe this shit!  
After everything Sherlock had been through he needed his brother and the cold bastard just did a runner .  
He leant down and linked his arms round Sherlock's unhappy frame, hugging the Omega close.

 

John had grown up with a younger sister Harriet.... when she'd been teenaged she could make a moody silence grow into a sulky atmosphere that could fill the whole house but this was different.  
Sherlock's silence was turned inward .... and even without words the pain of his silence spoke volumes.  
"You aren't to blame Sherlock." John wasn't sure Sherlock believed that.  
Sherlock gave no sign he'd heard John say anything, his averted hunched shape stayed staring out of the car window and he didn't turn his head or answer.  
"Soon be home lad." Riddick said.

John was increasingly angry on behalf of Sherlock.  
Where the Hell had Mycroft disappeared too?  
He sent a furious flurry of texts Mycroft's way.  
_Where the Hell are you._  
_You need to talk to him. ___  
_Sherlock needs you. ___  
_He needs to know you're coming. ___  
John looked over at Sherlock's mute misery.  
_Answer your phone FFS Mycroft. ___  
_FFS Mycroft ... pick up. You can't leave him like this. He needs your support.He's blaming himself. You know that, right? _  
And finally.... _YOU ELITE PRICK _____

_____ _

____

Sherlock stiffened warily as they rounded the corner into Baker Street and he saw the press thronging around the door.  
"Jesus Christ.... what happened to keeping these bastards back behind a cordon!" Riddick swore. "Bloody Hell. "  
"No Mycroft to arrange it." John said angrily.  
" You armed? " Alan asked.  
"Yeah." John admitted. "You?"  
Alan nodded. " Let's do this then."

When the car drew to a halt the shouting and clamour was audible from inside the car. Alan half- turned in his seat , removing his seatbelt as he did and John saw the professional competance on Riddick's face.  
"Right....This is how we're doing this. John, me and Greg get out first. Greg you go to the left and John you to the right side of the car door. Sherlock you stay in the car until I open the door for you. I'll give two bangs on the roof when I'm about to do that. Get out quickly. Keep your head down, arms crossed over Neep.... Go straight for the front door when I say move... don't look up at them, don't stop. I'll stay with you... if I tell you to stop or move faster you do exactly as I say Sherlock."  
Outside the tinted windows of the car the yelling rose and the hungry shouts crashed over them. 

"John! John!..... What about Siger Holmes, John? .... Come on John.... give us something !.... Did you know John?..... Where's Sherlock?"  
"Get out my way.... "John fought his way through, jaw tense and braced himself against the side of the car, deafened by the yelling.  
"Is Sherlock going back to Magnussen, John?"  
"Shut your mouth." John snarled , through gritted teeth as the flashes blinded him.  
Greg took a bang of a long lens into his ribs. " Police! Get back! ....Get back out the way!.... Police! ....Move or I'll have you for obstruction!" Greg grabbed hold of a yelling face by the jaw and forced it back.... making room to push through.

"Alan!.....Alan!.... Alan!.....Over here!....Did you know about Sherlock's father?... What about the incest, Alan? Did you know?"  
John watched as Riddick grabbed hold of the nearest journalist and slammed him viciously back against the car with a double fistful of his jacket before he let him go.  
The flashing lens were blindingly bright and the noise of the shutters clicking was all Greg could hear....  
Alan banged twice on the roof of the car with a fist and reached for the door.... John saw him reach down and haul Sherlock up and onto his feet by his arm and clothing, as the press bayed and the sound became deafening...."Move ....Cmon Sherlock!"  
"Sherlock!.... Sherlock, over here! .... "The press fought to get a picture , bodies surging foward.  
John sent a punch low and fought like he was in a scrum, grabbing bodies and forcing them aside or back with dogged aggression. Punches flying in low where they couldn't be seen.  
"Police.... back.... Get back!.... Get back!.... Give him some room!" Greg shouted as the press pack surged forward.

Sherlock was pulled under Alan's arm... John could see a flash of dark hair and pale skin.....  
"Get out my fucking way!" Riddick blocked and shoved and fought for the door. "Get that fucking camera out his face!"  
John caught hold of a jacket...."Move. Get out his way." The punch was low and fast. The journalist fell away and another pressed in..... John reacted again, harder and faster until there was a way through for Sherlock.  
The door was right there.... Martha's shocked face as she opened it, an image of appalled horror. "Oh goodness!"  
"In.... Get inside!..." Riddick had Sherlock there.  
Sherlock ducked under a journalist's arm and was inside.  
On the threshold in the mêlée John watched as Alan stomped his booted foot down on shins and shod feet alike, his face twisted in a feral snarl. 

They had to fight to try and force the door shut , Greg's shoulder against it and John yanking at the hands and lens pushed around it as Alan steered Sherlock further into the dark anonymity of the hallway, both hands on his thin shoulders.....  
John leant against the door close to Greg's, using their combined strength to get the door shut and saw Martha pick up her umbrella and whack at the fingers and hands that still held the doors edge....  
"Get out of my house!.... OUT!... Leave Sherlock alone!" Martha was upset.

"Mind your backs!" Alan Riddick shouted as he came running back suddenly , his booted foot smashing into the door half way up crashing the door shut with a brutal kick as a shout of pain came from behind it. John was quick to lock it and bolt it.  
The letter box lifted as someone outside tried to look through and Martha grabbed up the lemon window cleaner she still had in her apron pocket and sprayed it through the gap ...The hoarse cry of 'argh' was very satisfying.

"Everyone alright?" John turned round to see Sherlock disappearing up the stairs.  
"I'll go" Alan shot up after him.  
In the hall John and Greg stood gasping. There was blood on Greg's face from someone else's nose.  
"What the Hell was that? " John was livid. "Where's the security? Where the Hell is Mycroft?"  
"Not answering," Greg had a growing sense of worry.  
"Why the Hell not?" 

"Oh goodness me...." Martha swayed on her feet and sunk into the chair close to her flat's own front door.  
John went straight to her, crouching down to check her pulse. " Everything okay Martha? You were incredible.... Bad ass." He smiled..  
"John Watson.... don't be ridiculous." Martha said with a shaky smile.  
There was a series of loud thumps at the door and in the distance the sound of police sirens coming closer.  
"Oh John...." Martha said weakly. The shock was setting in now.  
Greg looked at his phone again. Nothing.... "I'll get some armed police outside the door."  
"Good idea . Lean on me Martha" John was already helping Martha to her feet as she lent on him , delayed shock making her feel weak and unsteady now. "I'll put the kettle on shall I?"

Greg sent another text to Mycroft as he climbed the stairs.  
_Worried. Everything ok? ___  
The door to 221b was wide open.  
He could hear the stress in Sherlock's voice, the Omega sounded breathless. "There's no security ....outside anymore."  
The first words he'd said since the Court.  
"I dunno lad. Something must have gone on. Sit yourself down.... that's the way.... You're not hurting anywhere? Neep ok?"  
"I'm ok. Neep's fine." Sherlock was malleable, letting Alan do what he wanted to settle him without a fuss, seemed best.  
Sherlock caught sight of Greg in the doorway as Alan moved .  
"The police are outside now." Greg reassured Sherlock. "Mycroft's not answering his phone.... Must be an emergency." Greg watched Alan pull the blanket over Sherlock's legs .  
"Aye , that'll be it." Alan said matter of factly. "Alright now, Sherlock?"  
"Yes." Sherlock's eyes were dark and anxious....  
Alan cupped Sherlock's pale worried face in his hands and pressed a kiss to the Omega's forehead. "Don't let worrying get the better of you lad. He'll be here soon. Summat came up , that's all..... If you're staying stick the kettle on for us, Greg? We'll have a brew."

____

In the kitchen as the glass kettle began to boil and was noisy enough to cover the sound of his voice, Greg tried Mycroft's phone again. His call went straight to voicemail.  
"Mycroft. Give me a call back. Sherlock's asking for you. Let us know you're ok?"  
"I'll get you something sweet to eat, Sherlock." ..... Alan came into the kitchen and kept his own voice low as he stuck some bread into the toaster. "Mycroft still not picking up?"  
"Nothing." Greg was worried.  
"That the only number you have for him?" Alan asked quietly before he raised his voice for Sherlock to hear.... "Jam and toast ok love?"  
Greg gave a nod. "There was no security outside. " His worry over that lapse was building fast. When it came to Sherlock's safety , Mycroft arranged everything personally.  
If nothing had been arranged then why not?  
Alan reached for jam and butter...."Aye ... that's odd alright."

Sherlock looked lost in thought, staring blankly at nothing.  
Alan didn't like the depressed , guilty look on the boy's face.  
After what had been said in Court the lad needed to hear he wasn't to blame.  
He thought about it and texted Mycroft from the bathroom.... where Sherlock wouldn't see and worry about it.....  
_U need to be here. He's fretting already. _  
He hoped he'd get a response even a typically snarky one but nothing came back.__

____

Greg knew a way to bring Sherlock's focus back....  
"That book bag you picked up at Greenwich. "  
Sherlock looked Greg's way..... and Greg could see him fighting to concentrate.  
"Turns out it's pretty generic.... a lot of schools have them...couple of initials on the label though.... can't read two of them but the third is a M."  
"A surname ...maybe." Sherlock said quietly.  
"Yeah , that's what we thought. Shame we can't get the first two letters."  
"Two...?" Sherlock checked facts. "Not just one other letter?"  
"Could be the kid has a short 3 letter name...Sam or Tom... Pam , even?" Greg rang the theory past Sherlock.  
"Or he just put all 3 initials .... Maybe he has a double barrelled surname. Or more than a few letters washed off?" Sherlock frowned. "That makes sense if the killer is Elite."  
"Why are you so sure it's a he? Could be a girl's bag." Greg suggested.  
"Unlikely... a girl wouldn't just write bare unadorned letters in black pen .... Black would be the least likely colour chosen by a primary school age girl of about 4-7.... definately a boy. "  
Greg blinked.... "How are you getting an age? "  
"4-7 self identification is hugely important... children put their name on everything. Aleksander had written his name in all his books , he showed me one, he had a special indelible pen so nobody could rub it out...." PROPERTEE OF ALEKSANDER MAGNUSSEN.... KEEP OUT..... Sherlock hadn't forgotten the childish writing. "He wrote all his S's the wrong way around. I asked him how he fitted a long name on something small.... he said if he didn't have room he wrote AHM " Sherlock's voice was sad as he remembered.  
""I used to draw stick men over all my books... drove my teacher mad. Mind you she was a hard faced old one " Alan said absently as he took a look out the window. Four police cars and a black car were outside.  
The front doorbell sounded.  
Sherlock looked to the door of 221b for Mycroft.

Whoever it was ....it wasn't Mycroft.  
"What's the H in AHM stand for?" Greg asked, trying to distract Sherlock.  
"Henrik.... it's a family name. Charles chose it."  
"He looks like an Aleksander though. Either the name suits him, he grew into it." Alan put another slice of buttered toast and jam down in front of Sherlock , sat down and let Sherlock worm his blanket covered feet onto his lap.  
Sherlock shook his head as though Alan was crazy and took a bite out of the toast. " How does anyone look like their name? Does Mycroft look like a Mycroft? "  
"Yup." Greg and Alan had matching grins. "He does."  
"What's his middle name anyway?" Alan asked.  
Sherlock's looked away, suddenly tense...."Siger."  
The talking stopped again and just like that the silence was back.  
Alan's hand took hold of Sherlock's socked toes and rubbed them gently.

Greg's phone rang. John's name lit the screen up. "I'll just have to take this, somewhere private."He stood up.  
" Work? Use the bedroom." Alan made the offer.  
Greg sat on the bed to make the call.  
Sherlock and Alan's room was surprisingly neat. Folded clothes belonging to both of them hung over the back of a chair and there were pregnancy books, a London street map and a red pen on Sherlock's side of the bed and some kind of gun related magazine on Alan's side.  
"John?"  
He heard voices in the background behind John.  
"Can you make an excuse and leave?" John was direct.  
"What? Why?" Greg asked.  
"There's a car here for you. Mycroft sent it. He was taken ill Greg, he's in hospital."  
"What happened?" Greg found himself staring at a framed photo of Mycroft and Sherlock .  
"That's all I was told. Seems it's a need to know basis... You but not me apparently. I'm to stay put."  
" Christ... Does Sherlock know? It's his brother, John.... he'll want to be be there."  
"It was Charles Magnussen who rang for the ambulance Greg....he's at the hospital with Mycroft."  
"Bugger!" Greg swore softly. "I'll be right down."

 

Alan watched from the window as Greg got into the black car outside.  
"Well? Police car or Mycroft- mobile?" Sherlock asked.  
"One of your brother's cars.... " Alan put on the iconic tv series voice...."Meanwhile back in the bat cave where our masked avenger is waiting for Greg...."  
Despite everything, Sherlock laughed. 

Alan lay on the couch, feeling Sherlock breathe was calming. "How'd you know Greg was lying?" Alan's lips moved in Sherlock's short hair as he spoke.  
"He looked me in the eye too many times. Maintain eye contact too long and you have to ask why. Only someone who is under pressure to look honest does that." Sherlock explained. "I think Mycroft told him to lie."  
Alan pressed Sherlock into him until he could feel the firm little swelling of the Omega's womb.... he heard the upset in Sherlock's voice. "Why would he want that?"  
Sherlock's sigh was desolate. "You saw his face Alan.... he looked.... disgusted."  
"No... that can't be right, lad. He's your brother. " Alan had no set idea why he couldn't agree , he just didn't."Blood's thicker than water. You're family, you and Mycroft."  
"Siger was blood too.... family meant nothing to him" Sherlock said bleakly.  
"That's different..." Alan closed his arms round Sherlock. "My step father, he was never family .... you know that... he'd take his belt or his fists to any of us if we did owt to mither him but he'd never have done what Siger did to you. You aren't responsible for him being a sick perverted shite."

The silence stretched on.....  
"In a zombie appocalypse what would your weapon of choice be?" Sherlock lifted his head from Alan's chest just enough to speak clearly.  
Alan laughed... "Where the Hell did that come from?"  
"We have to ask questions remember.... get to know each other."  
Alan grinned. "I'm not bloody sure that's the kind of question he meant."  
" Yes, I'm sure but knowing what you think about world peace seems pointless.... just answer it." Sherlock said.  
"One on one with a zombie..... a katana or an axe.... Crowd of the things ... I'm going with a machine gun providing I get a good supply of ammo or a belt full of grenades. Take a few of them with me when I go."  
"You wouldn't want to survive? " Sherlock twisted to look at Alan's face.  
"If I've got you and the kids... sure, head for the cabin, kill anything that gets in our way... make it secure. If I hadn't met you.... then nope , there's a time for everything, even dying."  
The matter of fact way Alan always included Aleksander in any plans tugged at Sherlock's heart. The Omega lay his head down against Alan's chest and listened to Riddick's steady heart beating. "You were right about Siger" he said. "He was a pervert....  
"Aye and a sick shite.... Don't forget that lad. He wasn't fit to kiss your feet."

 

The door to 221b was shut when John climbed the stairs. It was never shut.  
He knocked and waited.  
Riddick opened it after a few minutes and stood in the doorway, blocking it with his body. "Hey John...."  
"Alan?" John was genuinely surprised not to be asked in, after everything that had happened outside. He heard the frustrated change in his own voice as he had to ask.."Greg's just phoned, he won't be back till later. Okay if I come in? I wanted to check on Sherlock ? "  
"He's fine." Riddick made no move to step aside.  
"Problem?" John couldn't believe this. It felt like they were right back at step one abruptly.  
Alan stepped outside onto the landing and pulled the door shut behind him. "He's fine John. No pain. He's resting." He paused and John saw the exact moment when he made up his mind to say it. "I've got this..."  
John cocked his head back. "You refusing to let me in?"  
Alan sighed." You'd see it like that. Course you would."  
John laughed. "Sounds like what it is to me."

Alan stood still but a small shift in his stance would change it into offensive. "I'm taking care of him.... I'm asking you to let me do this my own way."  
John felt his fist close. "He's not your Omega yet...You've no claim..."  
"He's having my baby....How much more of a reason for me to want to look after him do you need." Alan stopped himself and ran a hand over his hair, before starting again.... "It's not about having a claim. Maybe I have my own ideas about how to help here .... that's all."

John couldn't hold the words back...."I bet you do. These plans involve you, Sherlock and a bed , do they?"  
"No they don't , not that its any of your business if they did." Alan stared at John his eyes hard and unfriendly suddenly. "Looks to me like you're the one trying to stake some sort of claim." He stopped himself again. "I don't want to argue. Sherlock's asleep now, it's best he stays like that for a couple of hours at least. You want to help? Get Mycroft here if you have to drag him... Sherlock thinks the reason he went missing is what he found out about Siger in Court."


	43. Puppet Theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg gets to the hospital and confronts CAM....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this update may trigger...both Alexei and Charles are sadistic and revolting....they have power and influence and they are unafraid of the law.
> 
> Blue..... surprise! Hope you enjoy.  
> The track is Puppet Theatre by Claptone feat. Peter,Bjorn and John.

Greg had never been in one of these posh private hospitals before.... he was used to grubby walled, long vinyl tiled corridors, crowded seating areas and exhausted looking dedicated staff. This place felt more like an exclusive hotel than a hospital.... all plush carpets and immaculate paint work, neutral tones and arty looking 'splash of colour' oil paintings on every wall that probably cost a small fortune.  
There was even a Beta receptionist in a navy blue suit with vivid red lipstick and dark kohl lined eyes, sat behind a shiny desk. "May I help you.... Sir?"  
"I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes?" Greg said with a smile, he had a feeling they didn't get that many Common Omega in here asking to speak to one of the patients.  
The sudden pursing of the receptionist's glossy scarlet lips as she heard Greg's accent gave her latent snobbery away."One moment please...." She tapped at a computer screen, before asking with an icy politeness, her frosty tone revealing just how unlikely she thought either option to be.... " Family or friend?"  
Greg flashed his badge...."DI Lestrade. New Scotland Yard" he said." Now what room's he in?"

It turned out Mycroft wasn't in a room.... he was in a suite of rooms. If the views Greg could see from the glass walled corridor leading up to the doors were anything to judge by Mycroft must have incredible views of London's skyline and its wheeling pigeons from his bed.  
There were a couple of burly Alpha guys stood in the corridor outside the door into Myroft's room...suite of rooms, Greg self corrected himself.....that he instantly recognised were bodyguards. The muscled physique, anonymous dark clothing and holstered guns gave that away.  
Having seen him in action earlier it was easy to imagine Riddick himself standing where these guys stood.  
The shorter of the two, whose neck was so overly muscled it looked like it had morphed into his shoulders, gave Greg the once over as he approached.  
"I'm here to see Mycroft Holmes."  
'No Neck' gave Greg a short, dismissive..."Wait here".... as though he was speaking to a dog.  
"No. I don't think so," Greg said and flashed his badge. "New Scotland Yard. DI Lestrade. I'll go right in shall I?."

Gre found himself in a large private sitting room.... with two huge couches facing each other over a glass coffee table. He was right about the views , a huge wall of curved glass overlooked St Pauls cathedral and the city beyond.  
The room wasn't empty.... Greg knew who both the dark suited Elite Alpha he was facing were .  
" I'll bid for the the Kandinsky of course, if Sotherby's can convince me the provenance is satisfactory...." Count Alexei stopped his conversation as soon as he saw Greg , his gaze evaluating Greg instantly before a look of malicious anticipation swept over his lean, aristocratic face. "And who might you be?"  
Charles Magnussen turned with a tumbler of Scotch and ice in his hand.... Greg found himself locking eyes with the pale, blue stare of Sherlock's Alpha for the first time. " This would be DI Gregory Lestrade of New Scotland Yard," Charles answered Alexei's question with a cold sneer.

"Mycroft through there is he?" Greg looked to the open door behind Magnussen.  
A hard stare was the only answer he got, so Greg crossed the room and went through the doorway into the bedroom beyond it.  
As Greg passed Magnussen the Alpha inhaled sharply.... "Omega" he said to Alexei.  
Greg paused..."You serious? We're doing this schoolboy scenting shit now are we? You knew I was Omega the second you saw me. A little past your preferred age group aren't I?"  
Alexei laughed.... his handsome face suddenly alive with devilment... "He has you there Charles! Unless a middle aged hole appeals to you?"  
Charles raised his glass and drank. "It does not. I prefer the tight slick grip of Sherlock in heat."  
Greg snorted..."Shame he doesn't prefer you then, isn't it? If you'll excuse me...gentlemen." Greg's tone showed he thought both Elite Alpha anything but.... 

Everything in the second room was so blindingly white and spotless that Mycroft's auburn hair was the sole focal point of vivid colour.  
Sherlock's brother lay pale and motionless in a white sheeted bed, a drip running into the back of his hand. There was a dark, bloody bruise in his hairline.  
"What's going in through the drip?" Greg asked the Asian nurse who was sat on a chair near the wall. When she failed to answer he pulled out his badge again... "I'll ask you again and I want an answer.... What drug is in that IV you've got in his vein?"  
"Sedamol.... make him sleep. Nice , deep sleep." She said.  
Greg pulled out his phone, took a photo of the hanging medication bag, Mycroft's head injury and the chart at the foot of Mycroft's bed and texted John, attaching both photos....  
It took a second then the text came back.... _I can't see any reason he'd be on that. It's a heavy sedative. Get it taken out, he'll wake up fast. _  
"Get that drip out of his hand... "Greg said to the nurse.... "Right now or I'm arresting you as an accessory to an assault!"__

____

"You pair of bastards. " Greg was angry.  
Alexei laughed. "Be careful what you say, Omega."  
Greg accused Charles."You sedated him....He had an epileptic fit, there was never any medical reason to keep him unconscious was there!"  
Charles face was impassive, his straight bracketed mouth a hard line. "Mycroft Holmes is related to me by bond match...Are you insinuating my actions were motivated by something other than altruistic concern?Be very careful if so.... I have arranged Mycroft's medical care at my personal expense since the man is Sherlock's brother.." He waved a hand idly. "Sherlock always missed his brother so very much...."  
"Spare me the bullshit. I know you made sure they never saw each other or spoke on the phone. Insecure jealous type are you?"

"Ohhh..." Alexei crowed . "He is brave.... this freakshow Omega ."  
Charles watched Greg closely as he spoke...."No Alpha.... no children.... an ex wife, Beta, you divorced at 23 just as your career took off, ....She cheated once.... no twice, before the marriage ended! You date men exclusively now. Three short term casual relationships .... one longer, it ended amicably...you lived with John Watson. How unusual. What does Mycroft think of you being so used, I wonder? "  
Greg looked directly into Magnussen's hard blue eyes. "Are the facts of my own life meant to upset me? You hired a private eye to do some snooping? Is that meant to impress me when Sherlock would take a second to tell me a list of original deductions as long as my arm? No....you'll need to try a lot harder than that."

Alexei stared at Greg , then lit a gold tipped , black cigarette from a enameled Faberge case. He had a mobile phone on the couch cushion next to him and scrolled through it, constantly texting and for a second Greg wondered if he was being recorded.  
"You think Sherlock will one day live a life like your own, Detective? You see him having a flat, a job , some small say on whose cock enters his hole, perhaps? You delude yourself." Charles voice was a malevolent, spiteful undertone designed to get under Greg's skin. "When he is returned to me I will undo all that has been done. Day by day I will strip each pleasure in every memory from him, until the mention of any of your names sends him cowering into a corner."  
Alexei glanced up..." You should use him as a urinal, Charles. It serves to remind them of their place. Sherlock has pride ...break it. The idea appealed to me .... I have done worse with Sasha, his face afterwards amused me.... but Sasha has not the ivory beauty Sherlock has ....imagine him kneeling bare on the floor, his mouth open when ordered, over filled till it spills down his body to drip wet from his cock."  
Greg needed to breathe air untainted by these sick fucks.... 

"That disgusts you, does it Omega?" Charles asked with a dark pleasure at Greg's nauseated expression.  
"You have no right to be so offended. The boy belongs to Charles .... a price was paid, the bond agreed... if he chooses to keep him in a cage and take him out only to fuck him before placing him back to fuck again later , then that is what he will do and the law will not stop him!" Alexei remarked laconically.

Greg fought to stay in control of his sickened anger and failed,. "You are a sick bastard .... a 14 year old child and a grown man like you couldn't keep your grabby paedo hands off him!" He stepped towards Charles.  
"Strike me and I'll make sure you are imprisoned for it..." Charles said harshly. "You are an Omega policeman.... you know what can happen to you in there with the right incentive every time it does. Rape can be so prevalent in mixed Alpha/Omega prisons....."  
"Get out...The pair of you... get out!" Greg said.

The screen lit up briefly as a text was received before Alexei put his cigarette out on the screen of the mobile phone next to him on the seat cushion of the couch. "Mycroft needs to buy a new phone. The screen is quite ruined." he said mildly.  
The lack of security for Sherlock made sense now..... "You used Mycroft's phone to cancel Sherlock's protection." Greg knew it!

"Of course." Charles smiled. " I wonder has Mycroft Holmes breached your hole yet? It will be the first time for him if he has...."  
"I find your preocupation with my sexuality disturbing to say the least" Mycroft's voice came from the doorway "Your unwanted presence in my rooms, more so. The hospital fees will be refunded to you in full within the hour. You disgust me.... but then, that would appear to be a shared emotion since you repulse Sherlock also."  
Even in a hospital robe, white faced and exhausted, his crisp upper class voice slurred with the lingering effects of the sedative, Mycroft managed to act as though he still wore a Saville Row suit. He didn't look to Greg for support once.

" I come to your aid after you suffer from some inbred seizure... and this is how you repay me!" Charles said sharply and suddenly Greg realised the open disgust of a fellow Elite meant more to Magnussen than anything said previously.  
"You took advantage of the sudden onset of my illness to have me bought here and drugged. You've removed both my wallet and my mobile phone and looked through both.... opportunistic thievery." 

"One or both of them cancelled the security outside 221b for Sherlock. We'd to fight our way through a press pack to the door." Greg knew he was right.... "You've been missing for hours, Mycroft."  
"Your messages amused me , hospitals are such dull places. I require constant entertainment." Alexei sounded bored. "John Watson had the audacity to insult you via text. When you associate with the lower classes I suspose such things happen.... Sherlock didn't text you once... I took the liberty of texting him just now on your behalf. Family is _so _important... He seemed upset to be called what he is.... a little whore."__

The concern for Sherlock on Mycroft's pale face was immediate and unhidden . "DI Lestrade, I want both these individuals escorted from my rooms. Kindly see it done."  
" With pleasure." Greg said ,pulling out his phone and calling for backup.  
"Fetch somebody with the power to have me discharged, before I have your medical qualifications removed as though they never existed.... NOW!" Mycroft raised his voice autocratically. The nurse ran from the room like a rabbit.  
Charles laughed. " And there he finally is.... the Elite Alpha you were born to be! You almost sounded like Siger there. Has Sherlock heard that tone in your voice? I'm sure he'd enjoy reminiscing since your Father was so _fond _of him."  
" However repellent Siger was, even he rejected your offer to bond Sherlock. You disgusted him. Ironic... a man as vile as Siger , saw you as beneath contempt." Mycroft's voice was cold. __

______ _ _

__

Mycroft regretted so much of his concentration was currently diverted to the challenging process of remaining upright...."I will see to it you will never lay a hand on Sherlock again. We will take your son from you. You are unfit! I will use every power and influence at my disposal to ensure it is so. " He swore it.  
Magnussen stood up. " Nothing has changed since the first time I took Sherlock from under your protection.... This time you will never see as much as an image of him again but you will know how much he will be suffering...day by day for the rest of his life..."

"Such tension...." Alexei sounded amused as he drained his Scotch in one hard swallow and got to his feet. "I just want to see him naked and covered in come again. He came so prettily Mycroft ....that tight hole of his stuffed full of cock... being raped excited him...."  
" You sick piece of shit!" Greg knew he'd regret it and it'd ruin his career as he punched the man hard into the jaw but he did it anyway!


	44. Kisses in The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmes brothers nights are quite different.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank anyone who has left kudos or a comment on the story ....that you read this far probably deserves an endurance medal by this point ...what set out to be a short story has become War and Peace....LOL!
> 
> Quite a lot of Yorkshire English in this update..  
> Thicko....stupid.  
> Hook , line and sinker. Time to reel in....basically means you successfully fooled somebody and they are now caught like a fish on a fishing line.  
> Neither use nor ornament... Not having a purpose or a role.  
> As close as makes no matter.... as close as you can get.  
> Mebbe....maybe.
> 
>  
> 
> Note to self ....put track list somewhere safe where you can find it next time! Sorry about delay....the track is On My Side by GORDI

Greg had been sat in the gloomy interview room at Paddington police station for four hours. His eyes felt tired and gritty, his shirt was crumpled, one wrist ached from the pressure of the handcuffs he'd worn all the way here in the back of the police car and the ignomony of his arrest didn't sit well with him.  
Facing facts....his career was over.  
There was no way on earth Adeyev wouldn't press charges and no way on earth a Court wouldn't convict once they'd seen the evidence of his bloody nose.... not when the victim of the assault was an Elite Alpha.  
His career was 100 % right Royally screwed.  
All for one stupid punch....

The weight of what he'd done was weighing on his conscience too.  
As a DI with the murder squad he knew all too well how one angry, doomed punch could end a life.... he could be facing a murder charge if Alexei had hit his head when he'd fell , sprawling untidily sideways onto the floor.  
Count bloody Adeyev was arrogant, entitled and openly malicious. He'd practically been begging for a punch in the mouth with that last sick comment about Sherlock and Greg had given him exactly the angry reaction he'd been probing for .... but even so, Greg pulled his mind back from trying to justifiy what he'd done ..... he was a DI , he was meant to stay the right side of the law.  
According to the duty officer, who knew Greg well and who'd had a good laugh at the disparity before booking Greg in... Count Adeyev was a bonded Alpha and father of six children.... His father had been a close personal friend of two of Russia's Presidents.... He even owned a premier league club.  
Greg's father had worked clearing drains and ditches for the council....His dad's best mate had been a scrap metal dealer. Greg owned a football shirt instead of the whole club.....

Six children.... it was hard to imagine an Alpha like Adeyev was a father and a bond mate.  
His children could be Omega.... Jesus, Greg hoped not though.....  
He hadn't forgotten the sick anecdote, who in their right mind urinated on their Omega just because they could?  
Somebody lived every day of their life with that level of casually entitled spite.  
Sasha... that was the name. Maybe John could do something?  
Adeyev said he'd pissed on him.... he'd laughed about it.  
Hell he encouraged Magnussen to do the same to Sherlock.  
Forget regrets.... it was a shame he hadn't hit the arrogant jerk harder. 

Greg was resigned to his fate.... sat so long in the hard plastic chair his back and arse was aching, he lowered his head onto his folded arms , trying to snatch some sleep before the questions began.  
When he opened his eyes the door was opening....  
Mycroft Holmes was back in a bespoke three piece suit with an luxurious looking shirt and a subtle silk tie. The hospital gown and his pale bare legs consigned lastingly to Greg's memory.  
Mycroft was still pale but immaculately groomed.  
The only sign anything untoward had happened was a small square plaster on the back of one hand and another discreet dressing in his hair line.

"Gregory...." Mycroft came inside the small, stuffy room, with its stained carpet ; closed the door and stood quietly by the wall , ignoring the chair opposite Greg's. "It's been the most horrendous day. I've yet to see Sherlock." He said guiltily.  
Greg stood up awkwardly and faced Mycroft. The extreme contrast between them.... grimy and Common versus Elite and immaculate.... made him feel worn out around his edges.  
"You look a lot better... with all the blood cleaned up." Greg gestured to his own head to show he meant Mycroft's head injury...before he began what he already felt was a doomed apology. " I lost my temper.... I've put you in a difficult position Mycroft, I can see that.... Obviously I'll plead guilty to whatever the disciplinary and legal proceedings throw at me...."  
"Gregory...could you ...shut up and kiss me." Mycroft said breathlessly. 

Greg had Mycroft Holmes pinned to a wall covered with posters highlighting the improbable photo-kit faces of various criminal gangs.... every hard , panting breath they shared leading to another snog, for lack of a better word....  
"I'm sorry." Greg muttered against lips that opened under his own. Mycroft's skin smelt of expensive aftershave and his mouth tasted of a peaty, brackish whiskey. Greg's spread hands were finally inside the suit, pulling the Alpha in closer with a double handful of cotton so fine he could feel the heat of Mycroft's skin underneath.  
"I was detained.... a security breach.... debriefing.... necessary evil. " Mycroft said in among kisses.  
Debriefing..... Christ, that was an image! Greg leant in hard, let his full cock be felt, pressing against Mycroft's own bulge as he rolled his hips and felt Mycroft take a strained gasp.

"I'm in love with you".... the words were kissed into oblivion as soon as they left Greg's lips.  
"There is no security camera footage.... coverage was ... inexplicably blank.... No witness....naturally I was unable.... to agree with Count Alexei's or Charles version of events.... An unfortunate fall, foward into you.... causing you to off hand him, somewhat brusquely admittedly.... not in any way your fault...rather more of an accident..." Mycroft muttered the words in between gasps as Greg's mouth covered his again and again and he kissed back with an inexperienced, passionate hunger....struggling to keep his mind on the words..."I press no charges .... neither will they..... You will keep your career. Gregory...you look exhausted!"  
"Mycroft...." Greg's hands were either side of Mycroft's face, his palms against the wall , face close enough to see all the different grey and copper flecks in Mycroft's blue eyes, as he leant his body into the Alpha's, anchoring them both. His voice was ragged ...."You know....there is an easier way to tell me you love me. Just say the words...."  
And Mycroft did.... 

 

"Sherlock? You awake lovely lad?" Alan knew he was.  
" Why would he text me just to call me a....whore?...Where _is _he? ... He didn't even ask me about what happened?"__  
Still upset then...."Sometimes people say shit they don't mean. It's the shock .... I knew a guy in the Army, got a call to say his wife was dead and all he could say was he hated her liver and onion pie. We all knew he loved her, it's the shock... does funny things to the brain."  
Sherlock rolled over to look at Alan, the shadows hiding his own face. "What does Mycroft ever say that he doesn't mean?"  
"He's only human Sherlock...he fucks up, just like the rest of us... he's still your brother. It'll be the shock." Alan hoped it was the bloody shock because if Mycroft didn't say sorry or if he ever repeated those words to Sherlock he wouldn't be responsible for what he did or how far he stuck Mycroft's head up the man's own arse!

____

The silence weighed heavy.

"Do you want to get up or cuddle up?" Alan couldn't take any more.... they'd lain awake watching the illuminated numbers move from 3:45 all the way up to 5:00 without a single word.  
Sherlock shifted over into Riddick's arm by way of reply. When it closed round him he said, "Ask me a question.... You haven't yet."  
"Now...?" Alan thought desperately. "If you could legally change your name what would it be?"  
"I already did.... William Sherlock/ Sherlock William , remember? Or do you mean change it again?"  
"Christ , I'm a bloody thicko sometimes. Course you did." Alan shook his head at himself.  
Sherlock lay quiet. "William Riddick sounds better than Sherlock Riddick."  
Alan's grin was massive. " Aye but I'd bond you whatever you called yourself."  
Sherlock let that revelation about Alan's intentions sink in......

"Ask me something else. We can't count you asking me something you already knew."  
"Right .... Money or love?" Alan was proud of this one. It seemed deep as questions go.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You already know it's love...I chose you. "  
"Ah bugger... I suck at this. IQ of a frozen turkey, me. " Alan laughed. "All my questions are hopeless!"  
Sherlock pressed a kiss to Alan's shoulder."Try again."  
Alan avoided saying the first thing that came into his unreliable head. He ran a hand over Sherlock's belly and felt Neep jump inside the Omega. "Neep.... what do you want him to inherit from you and what do you hope he gets from me?"  
"Looks or personality?" Sherlock checked before replying.  
"Both."  
"My deductions.... that would be fun. Musical.... then I could teach him violin. Definately not your singing voice..."  
"Oi cheeky..." Alan protested halfheartedly.  
Sherlock turned , leaning on Alan's chest to see his face better in the morning light as he answered. "Your courage... Your kindness.... Your bigger heart.... Your smile.... The way your eyes crinkle up at the edges when its snowing or when you laugh.... Your cooking and wood chopping ability would be helpful." He was honest.

Alan said. "Your eyes are prettier than mine. Look at the starlight in yours.... like diamonds in ink."  
"I like yours more. Sky blue."  
Alan bit his own lip so he wouldn't ask then did it anyway. "Wood chopping skills.... That mean we are going back to the cabin someday?" He hadn't words for how much he wanted that or the number of times he'd come close to asking.  
Sherlock frowned and Alan felt his heart sink.  
"I thought that was a given. I thought you knew? You said you'd make me snow birds every year..." Sherlock said pensively.  
"Jesus you remember that? I thought you were out of it." Alan was startled. "I don't want to take a thing for granted, lad.... You've a city here, friends.. all that...a life. You tell me how you'd want to live it?"  
Sherlock laid his lips to Alan's , more a benediction than a kiss. " I thought maybe both places, months here and months there.... Winter there."

"Winter! " Alan laughed out of pure relief, then teased.... "You forgotten how cold it is and how deep the snow gets, already?" He had an overwhelming rush of pure joy at the idea of being home again.  
"Never. It's all stored... inside my mind and in my heart. I have a whole snowy cabin room. It's part of me. You're part of me." Sherlock said the words reverently like he was swearing an oath. "The smell of the logs... the snow filled skies.... the pale yellow sun through silver trees.... snow on your clothes. and in your hair... the flames in the dark.... the taste of your cold skin...."  
"In that memory place you have? You have the cabin in there?".  
"Every day. Good and bad. All of it. From first to last."  
Alan kissed Sherlock with a slow , dedicated care.

"Be a bit different now, if we do go back.... We'd have to build an extra room on. Bigger deck maybe...Buy a couple of extra chairs, mebbe a bigger bed.... and a proper saucepan or two." He planned ahead , already seeing it in his mind.  
"Not a bigger bed. That one is sentimental and I like sleeping close....." Sherlock blushed as Alan gave him a smile.... "Non stick pans might be best."  
Alan grinned. "Aye....Maybe Martha would know what brands non-stick and indestructible. I'll lay in a years supply." He teased gently.  
Sherlock poked him....twice.

"Mrs Hudson.... she said she's happy for us to stay here...when Neep's born."  
"Did she now? That's a nice offer."Alan smiled. "She may regret it when the baby has her up all night with his bawling , mind you. My Aunt's bairn had a set of lungs on him you could hear at the bottom of the street.... tiny little pinkish thing, like a skinned rabbit but the mouth on him was raucous."  
Sherlock looked intimidated. Every Riddick baby seemed to be a screamer. "I've never done this before.... I've never looked after a new born baby. You know I never have. What if I roll over on him in bed and squash him flat?"  
Alan shook with quiet laughter. " Since you're an Elite Omega and not a sow with a litter of 12 piglets, that seems a bit unlikely lad."  
Sherlock gave Riddick a harder poke in the ribs."What if I forget to wake up or feed him , you know I'll forget to eat if you don't remind me?"  
"If he takes after me he'll remind you himself soon enough.... _WAAAA! _... least you've done the baby feeding part before with Aleksander." Alan hugged Sherlock into him , breathing the soft sweet smell of the boy's skin in deep and slow, taking it right down to the bottom of his lungs.__

____

Sherlock said slowly. "Why do you want Aleksander too and not just Neep? Why did you always want me to love him?"  
Alan's head turned sharply. "You think that's weird?"  
"No.... it's typically you.... You've always spoken up for him. Even when I didn't want him." It hurt to admit there had been times when he hadn't cared at all.  
"You always could have loved that baby, you just weren't allowed to know you could.... Remember the time I caught you walking down to see him? I hated myself for that.... You needed a little quiet time alone to bond with him, that's all." Riddick was sure of it. "You never got to hold him or cuddle him.... this time you will. He was as robbed of having your love as you were of being allowed to love him. He needs a mother lad....God knows , I grew up without mine for much of it... he needs you if he's to stand a chance of coming right, Sherlock."

There was another silence.  
"I'm scared." Sherlock admitted it.  
"Scared of what?" Alan was caught by surprise. "The pain?"  
"A bit. It hurts. " And more he couldn't say....  
" After everything you've been through , I reckon you've nothing left to prove to yourself pain wise.... Nothing wrong with asking for the drugs , that's why they were invented .... and there's that needle in your back thing. Takes it all away."  
Sherlock knew that... an epidural.How bad would things have to be if a needle in your spine sounded like a good idea?  
Unlike Charles .... Alan didn't mind if he had pain relief and that was good. 

"You've been reading up about the birth?"  
"Course I have .... You don't want me stood there doing now't .... being neither use nor ornament. No I'll be near as makes no matter, lad."  
Sherlock had a sudden alarming image of Alan's head stuck right between his thighs for a close up view..... "You'll stay up by my head though , right? You don't like gory things." He sat up...time to check what Alan had planned.

Alan's hid his wicked grin. Hook , line and sinker... time to reel in..."Now't gory about the miracle of birth... You thought about squatting over a mirror on a birthing stool.... watching baby come out?"  
God.... no! Ugh! ..... "I was thinking I'd have a water birth... privacy.... can keep birth calmer...." Sherlock said weakly. What was Alan thinking and how could he be reprogramed out of this involved level of birthing lunacy before Neep was born!

"Oh? Fantastic! I'll get right on in with you.... If you chant as the head comes out.... it welcomes baby into the world gently.... it's all on page 32, zen birthing...." Riddick couldn't hold the laughter back anymore at the mortified look of horror on a speechless Sherlock's face..... "Got you there love!" He was crying laughing. "God.... the look on your face! Zen birthing....my arse!"

Sherlock couldn't believe he'd fallen for that! "Fuck...You fucker! I thought you were serious!.. I thought you'd actually lost your mind!" It was hard to speak, swear and laugh at the same time!  
"Jesus... Cover your innocent ears Neep!" Alan placed two hands over Sherlock's bump in an approximation of earmuffs, laughing fit to burst ."Mind the language lad, we don't want him being born cursing at the room like a soldier!"  
That earnt him a flurry of indignant kiss after kiss ....and in the middle of it all, just as things were fast moving past kissing..... the door bell rang.


	45. Stand By Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft talk about a past that left its scars on them both .  
> More dark secrets finally see the light of day....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Stand By Me (reimagined) by Denmark and Winter.  
> A priest hole was a secret hidden space built into English houses during the time of Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell.... when it was illegal for a Roman Catholic to hear mass.

Mycroft had, of course, expected Alan Riddick to open the door.... nevertheless the navy pj bottoms, bare chest and feet and the fact that the man had recently been in state of advanced sexual arousal made keeping eye contact slightly more challenging than usual.  
At times like this Mycroft relied upon the umbrella and he tightened his steely grip upon the ivory handle before asking, "Is Sherlock awake?"  
Alan's level gaze went unerringly to the dark. mottled bruising and dressing in Mycroft's hairline instead of answering. "Had a bit of bother then?"  
"A fall." Mycroft really didn't care to offer a full explanation. "Is Sherlock still sleeping?"  
"He's not slept. He thought you'd be here hours ago." Alan said shortly."What the _Hell _was with that fucked up text...?"__  
Mycroft gave a weary sigh. "Mr Riddick.... I would hope you know me sufficently well by this time to realise that I would never knowingly insult Sherlock."  
"Aye, reckon I do." Alan sounded like he'd made his mind up. "Come up, I want to make sure he eats some breakfast ... with him being pregnant and all."  
Mycroft took a deep breath, either he said this now or not at all ...."I was hoping to speak with him alone. Bearing in mind the delicate subject matter."  
Alan paused, already partway up the stairs. "Your father? I figured that much. I'll grab my runners and head out if you can have security outside for me? Nice morning for a run."  
It had all proved easier than Mycroft had expected but then Sherlock would always be more challenging.....

____

Sherlock looked impossibly young in his dressing gown , perched in an armchair with a bowl of cereal balanced on his pulled up knees and his bare toes poking over the edge of the seat cushion. Mycroft reluctantly noted the pink flush of recent arousal on his brothers high cheekbones....  
"Right...tea's made. " Alan put down two saucerless cups and some biscuits on a saucer.  
"Phone's on me if you need me lad. I'll be an hour , maybe a little more." Alan seemed hesitant to leave. Finally he turned to Mycroft.... "Remember he's pregnant .... he's had enough stress.... Be bloody kind... don't make me sorry I left him here alone with you."  
"I only want us to talk." Mycroft said with pained dignity.

It still felt awkward , kissing the lad properly with his brother looking on, so Alan leant over Sherlock and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's short dark hair instead with a whispered 'love you'.  
He was heading out the door when Sherlock's voice from right behind him said ..."Alan...?" and he turned to find the Omega stood there, uncertainty all over his face.  
"It'll be alright lad. Just have your say. Get it all off your chest." Alan said gruffly, hating to step away when Sherlock's eyes were so wide and nervous. Ah... fuck it anyway, the boy needed a proper kiss ....he reached out, arms wrapping the Omega round for a kiss and a cuddle as Sherlock's thin arms slid around him and held on. 

Sherlock stood at the window to watch Alan go.

With Sherlock perched back in his chair , knees drawn up protectively, Mycroft found the right words escaped him. "I was not responsible for the text you received,"he began, already feeling he was being too formal. "You must have realised that, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock put down his empty bowl and picked up his tea. "Not exactly," he said.  
"Sherlock .... I would never insult you.... I've never thought of you in those vile terms. I w..w..would never...." Mycroft stammered before he could control it.  
Sherlock looked up sharply. "What happened to your head? You fell. I can tell that from the contusion , there's a impact line.... but what did you hit it on?"  
Sherlock hadn't said he believed anything Mycroft had just said, Mycroft noticed. "The Legate's desk.....I suffered one of my seizures. " Mycroft's head and heart ached dully in unison. "Charles acted as a concerned relative by bond.... I was transferred to a private hospital and kept there under sedation...."  
Sherlock's eyes widened in shock.  
"The text was, I believe, the malicious brainchild of Count Adeyev.... I'm sorry if you were duped , even for a moment , into believing it came from me."

" When you disappeared, I thought .... " Sherlock paused. "That maybe... you didn't expect to hear what you heard.... about Siger...."  
Mycroft reached for his tea and took a well mannered swallow, hiding his consternation behind familiarity. "No..."he admitted.  
"Then I thought ....after seeing your face.... perhaps it wasn't such a new idea to you after all....?" Sherlock said and waited......

"Do you recall the New Year house parties? " Mycroft asked and Sherlock gave a single small nod by way of reply. "The deer hunt assembled in front of the house and the pack of white hounds all baying for the scent?"  
"I remember." Sherlock said quietly.  
"You started to draw the eye of every Elite Alpha there.... You were only 13, of course you didn't realise.... but Siger saw." Mycroft stared into the ashes of the hearth. " 'Damn fine little thorough bred filly , that Omega of yours'....one of his friends said that, as if you were equine breeding stock... you were only a child." He looked up hoping Sherlock understood.  
"I've been called a lot worse things than that. Charles usually went with whore." Sherlock said.  
"You're my brother." Mycroft had no idea why he had said that.... he opened his mouth and it seemed the words were already there waiting to be spoken. "I should have protected you."  
"What happened isn't your fault." Sherlock said, his eyes were sad.  
"The way Siger watched you. As you neared puberty." Mycroft said guiltily. "It made me uneasy ... at times....I never spoke up. I thought, even _he _had limits. "  
Sherlock laughed cynically. "I'm not sure he really knew himself well enough to know what those limits were."__

____

"He liked me less every year." Sherlock was quietly vehement. "He always spoke to me like I was inferior...not like I was his son.... I was an embarassment. He hadn't wanted an Omega child, I knew that... but when I was younger that just meant he was unfair..... I grew up thinking he was a bully, he was that way with you too.... and at least he didn't care what I did, he didn't try and force me to fit in with his stupid ideas of who I should be , like he did you. As long I didn't get in his way or do anything to make him notice me.... life was ok. My life seemed better than yours...you tried so hard it made you ill... I was invisible, on the edges.... everything you did was noticed and criticised.... after Sherrinford. I worried about you."  
Mycroft had no words , years worth of surpressed miserable memories fought for prominence inside his mind.... he refused to allow the distraction, Sherlock was all that mattered....  
"When you went away to University," Sherlock said and his voice faltered. "I spent days just sitting in your room. I was always on my own , I'd find out something interesting and there was nobody to tell. I used to spy on the staff.... following them , making sure they didn't see me... Cook was stealing from the pantry , did you know that? I worked that out in week two. It's fascinating how differently people can act when they don't know you can hear them or see them....don't you think?"  
Mycroft nodded. Afraid if he spoke Sherlock would fall silent.

"I heard Siger shouting at Mummy once.... he called him an ignorant bitch of an Omega and a useless Mother. Mummy was crying but then he was always crying... I didn't think anything of it. I didn't care...."  
"It was the norm." Mycroft agreed.  
"He never hit Mummy though." Sherlock said with absolute certainty.  
"Can we be sure? Things may have happened we never witnessed." Mycroft said.  
"No....I know.... when he slapped me...after the erotica.... he said it was the first time he'd ever had to lift his hand to a disobedient Omega.... Mummy knew his place ....I didn't."  
"You were a child."  
"Even as a child I didn't like him and he knew it." Sherlock said." _Be quiet William. Don't interrupt William. Sit there and don't move William. Nobody cares for the whining sound of your voice William. Stand in the corner you damn ugly little nuisance _..... He made it pretty clear I wasn't wanted."  
Mycroft winced.__

____

"Still I could avoid him. It was a big house, I knew all the best hiding places inside and outside. Even you couldn't find me."  
"No... not if you really didn't want to be found." Mycroft recalled the hours spent futilely searching.  
"There was more than one priest hole." Sherlock finally shared the secret. "I think they'd thought .... build two priest holes, make sure one is easy to find then when it was discovered to be empty they'd stop looking and go away. People do that, if they see a solution they accept it without questioning it."  
Mycroft nodded. Sherlock had always been so curious. "Where was the second?"  
"Behind the oak panelling to the right of the library fireplace. I found it because there was a draught that shouldn't have been there." Sherlock looked up...."I had a plan. I'd hide there if they ever came to bond me.... "

"It was such a shit plan looking back but at the time I thought it'd work." Sherlock laughed at his own naiviety. "I hadn't even thought about the practicalities but I had three tins of canned peaches, two of Beluga caviar, a bottle of sparkling water and a bucket.... some books , a blanket and the mouldy seat cushion from the old summer house. It smelt so musty I used to get really sore eyes every time I laid my head down....  
I thought whenever they say they'd found me an Alpha i'd just vanish till he'd gone and come out after . They'd be angry but what could they do. Once they'd got through all the eligible Alpha in England they'd have to give up."  
Mycroft found himself smiling....the plan was so typically Sherlockian.

"Except Charles was never ever going to give up. Siger said no.... but that was only so Charles would think there was competition and offer more. He made a joke out of how much my hole was worth.... he estimated in millions per cock inch. Nobody cared that I didn't like Charles, that he made me feel afraid..... nobody cared that he was creepy and cold..... or that he lived so far away, that I couldn't speak Danish and I'd never see you again if I was bonded to him."  
"I cared. Very much." Mycroft knew how heartbroken he sounded.  
"I knew _you _did.... When Siger died I was happy inside. It felt like finally I had a chance. You'd never let Charles have me....I knew that. All day long at Siger's funeral I was so excited.... you know that awful song? Ding dong the witch is dead? I was singing it inside my head all through the service.... when they closed the doors to the crypt I had this insane image of me breaking out and dancing away over the lawns! I thought the threat was gone .... I'd be able to go outside again. I could stay single forever. I had this whole future planned .... maybe I'd go to university like you did and study science or music.... or be a spy for MI5 like you were."__  
Mycroft didn't deny it or ask how Sherlock knew.  
"There was a future, for the first time in a year and it was full of possibilities.... only it wasn't. It was all only an illusion." 

____

"Charles told me he made an offer and it was verbally accepted the afternoon of the funeral...."  
"No, Sherlock! That can't be right.... it was weeks afterwards .... " Mycroft was horrified, recalling clearly the aware, knowing look Mummy had given Sherlock in the back seat of the Daimler car.  
"No... it is right. Charles said he already owned the majority of Siger's debts and shares before he took his last breath. He wasn't lying. Siger would have had to agree in the end, Charles said he was toying with him but he already held the winning hand.... Siger died before he found out he'd already been outplayed but that suited Charles even better.... Mummy received the legal papers to look through the day I went back to school."  
"No.... Sherlock! Mummy himself told me he was forced to sign after he was hospitalized."  
"Forced....? Charles took the papers into Mummy then for signing but they already had an agreement in place for weeks." Sherlock started laughing but there wasn't a trace of amusement in his face. "I know you believed him but that's _funny _isn't it.... you're so clever and Mummy fooled you without even getting out of his hospital bed."__

Seamlessly Sherlock switched into an eeriily exact impersonation of Mummy's brittle voice. _"We can't lose everything Rudi. Mycroft's inheritance has to be preserved, he is all we have now. We can't be declared bankrupt. It's an extraordinarily generous offer for an Omega like Sherlock. Charles Magnussen could have anyone he wished. God knows what he sees in an awkward anorexic child like Sherlock.'_  
Mycroft stood up abruptly and walked away into the kitchen....his eyes wet with tears.

Sherlock's guilty voice came from the doorway.... "I shouldn't have said it like that....like I blame you. I don't. I only found out everything in my last year with Charles. He was bragging about it. There is no way you could have known. Mummy didn't want you to know."  
Mycroft could guess why..... Only one Alpha son left, of course it just wouldn't do to alienate him by being seen to sell off his beloved younger brother too readily. Far better to make it look like a reluctant deal....and he'd believed Mummy's tearful distress. It had all been an act.

"Mummy could be worse than Siger.... he was obsessed with my virginity. It was Mummy who took my bicycle away and banned me from riding anymore. Apparently anything too physical could pop it just like that..." Sherlock scoffed at the stupidity. "I was half expecting to be banned from walking and told I had to lay about on cushions for the rest of my life like some odalisque.... You'd think being Omega , Mummy would have told me what to expect on a bond night but no.... he left all the technical explaining to Siger....."  
Mycroft was appalled. "I asked Mummy if you knew what would happen. He assured me you were prepared. You told Aric Weber you knew what to expect, that a teacher and Mummy had discussed it with you!"  
"Yes.... well I lied.... I do that. I'd rather die than say some things in Court with all those people staring at me." Sherlock said flippantly. " I knew what Siger wanted me to know.... "  
Mycroft felt a sick dread.

"Did Siger molest you more than once...Sherlock....?"  
The question seemed to echo around the small room. Sherlock shrugged, like it didn't concern him. "Define molest?"  
Mycroft couldn't understand why Sherlock delayed answering....it meant more revolting fears and disturbing visual images needed vocalising..... "The study door ..... why did he close it? Why were you sent to your room....?"

" Sometimes he liked to say things he didn't want to be overheard, about sex or about my body...." Sherlock brushed past Mycroft and started reboiling the kettle even though it was almost empty of water. Pouring far two much milk into two wet cups he took from the draining board and didn't dry. Keeping busy..... "Are we counting dry humping me as abuse? He was a bit like a randy dog when it came to that....and he was heavy, my legs kept going out from under me.... "

Mycroft switched off the empty kettle at the wall socket before it could burn out. Sherlock stayed still staring at the steam rising from its spout as though it could still boil.  
How best to comfort Sherlock....? The Omega's hand was a clenched fist, his arm a block shielding his stiff unhappy body.....his face hidden from view looking down averted in shame.....  
"I know I've failed you .... it breaks my heart."Mycroft's hand barely touched Sherlock's hunched shoulder.  
Sherlock's head jerked around, startled....he hadn't expected a touch. "When nobody cared for me, you did! I don't blame you. Mycroft .... can't you see? Without you it would all have been much worse."

Mycroft was white faced."You forgive too easily."  
"No..." Sherlock hesitated.... "I told Mummy I hated him. Two days before he tried to end his own life. He rang the school to tell me he'd accepted Charles as my bondmate..... I said.... _I hate you. I wish you'd died as well as Siger. I wish you were'nt my Mother...I wish you were dead! _."__

____

____

Mycroft took a step forward instinctively..... How many more sordid distressing secrets hid in the dark memories of the past? "Sherlock...." he detested the ineffectual helplessness in his own voice.  
Sherlock had half turned towards him..."I should have told you. I should have told you everything."  
"I wish you had. Sherlock... we are brothers...shaped in the same crucible. We will always be stronger together." Mycroft reached out, arms stretched around Sherlock's miserably hunched frame and finally held him... 


	46. Nothing But The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Milne in action as he cross examines Sherlock.....  
> Greg isn't the only one who is driven to throw a punch.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a few liberties with actual court procedure here.... mainly to keep a momentum through the scene.  
> This update may trigger but it's not too graphic.....
> 
> Blue....the track is White Blood by Oh Wonder. Sorry I had to be so cagey answering your comment about Greg's punch yesterday.... Hopefully this update explains why!

The Court room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop and hit the floor.

On a huge tv screen Magnussen's snarling face was twisted with anger as he forced Sherlock's head down, hard fingers digging deep into the boy's soft hair.  
Sherlock hadn't forgotten the thump or his cry of pain he'd given as the side of his head hit the wood of the desk and his panicked pleading echoed round inside his head.... _"Please...I'm sorry...Charles please.....Please... Stop _!"__

____

In the witness box Sherlock had lowered his head and hidden his face.  
The Legate didn't look away from the screen watching impassively as Magnussen banged the side of Sherlock's head into the wood repeatedly and the slight figure of the Omega boy fought to brace himself against the painful bangs with both hands.  
Weber hit the pause button just after Charles released the boy abruptly and stepped back; freezing the moving image as Sherlock slid down onto the floor and balled up defensively, both hands cradling his head in obvious pain and Magnussen swung his leg back....

"Can you tell me at which residence this beating took place Sherlock?"  
"Obection! Mr Weber's language is deliberately over emotive! I see a correction not a beating." Milne drawled laconically.  
"Over ruled, Mr Milne." The Legate said with a sharp dismissive edge to his voice.  
"None of them. That is the Café Royal, Paris. How do you even have this footage?" Sherlock was barely audible.  
"I can't hear you boy. Speak up! Damn mumbling." Mungo barked.  
Sherlock's head jerked up and he locked eyes with Mycroft as he spoke..."The Café Royal hotel, Paris" he said with savage clarity. "We were in Charles penthouse suite there."

Weber moved up the Court towards the Omega sensing Sherlock needed his reassurance. "And how old are you in this footage Sherlock?"  
"14."  
"14...."Weber let that bare fact hang in the silence of the Court room. "Was this the first time you'd been beaten by Charles Magnussen?"  
"Yes."  
" Had Charles been physically violent towards you before?"  
"Objection! As my honourable friend Mr Weber knows well.... the physical correction of an Omega is legal and common place in Elite society."  
" Upheld. Adjust your language if you would Mr Weber." The Legate instructed calmly.  
"Of course, Legate." Weber nodded thoughtfully.... "Had there been prior incidences in which Charles Magnussen 'corrected' you with such brutality?"  
"Objection!"  
"Sit down Mr Milne!" The Legate said drily...."Mr Weber.... you walk a narrow line at times with regard to your choice of language, be sure you stay the right side of it."  
"I apologise Legate.... I assumed the term 'correction' was acceptable since my learned colleague Mr Milne chose to use it himself. " Weber said disingenuously.  
"Very well I'll allow it since precedent has been established. Carry on."

"Do you recall the first occasion on which Charles Magnussen 'corrected' your behaviour with any degree of physical force Sherlock?"  
"Yes. We were in the car."  
"Perhaps I should begin by asking what the misbehaviour was that merited a physical correction on that first occasion?" Weber said with a deep, thoughtful exhale."Do you know, Sherlock?"  
"I didn't feel well and I wasn't listening when Charles spoke to me."  
"You were distracted by feeling unwell?"  
"Yes."Sherlock hesitated..." It was the first time I'd left my family home, we were going to the airport.... and I didn't feel well."  
Weber made sure the court understood why.... "The reason you felt unwell?"  
Sherlock flushed pink as he looked down...."I'd had my first heat."  
"And you'd spent that time with Charles Magnussen?"  
"Yes." Sherlock was very pale.  
"Was that time in the heat suite.... four days.... the longest period of time you had spent alone with your new Alpha?" Weber deliberately didn't look up at Sherlock as he asked the question, giving the Omega all the meagre privacy he could .  
"Yes."  
"So would it be fair to say Charles Magnussen was still in most ways a stranger to you, Sherlock?"  
"Yes."  
"Objection!" Mr Milne sounded bored."The boy was leaving his home and family for the first time, of course he had yet to bond emotionally with Mr Magnussen."  
"Over ruled...I'll hear where Herr Weber is heading with this line of questioning." The Legate glanced across the courtroom at Milne.

"The physical correction was unexpected, Sherlock.... Could you tell me what happened?"  
Sherlock spoke up before the Legate interrupted..."Charles caught hold of my neck and hit my head off the car window."  
There was a tense silence before Weber filled it with a question. "Were you corrected verbally before the physical punishment?"  
"I don't know.... I hadn't heard him speak to me. Maybe he had."

Aric paused to allow time for thought. "Afterwards did he explain what you had , in his opinion , done wrongly?"  
"Yes."  
"But you don't remember hearing Charles speak to you before the physical punishment took place?"  
"No.... I was staring out the car window to see England for the last time....then he caught hold and hit my head off the glass."  
"Did he hurt you Sherlock?"  
"It's the side of my head banged against a car door ... of course it hurt.... even my neck hurt from where he grabbed hold. His fingers dug in."  
"Was Charles aware he had hurt you?"  
"Objection....speculation." Milne sounded bored.  
"Agreed....rephrase if you would Herr Weber."  
Aric nodded , took a glance down at his notes then spoke up, his tone calmly considerate. "Did you react to Charles banging of your head against the car window in any way that clearly indicated it had caused you pain?"  
Sherlock flushed and looked towards Riddick. " I cried. It hurt and I wasn't expecting it." He sounded ashamed. "It was a shock."

"Did Charles console you in any way?"  
Sherlock gave an incredulous laugh and shook his head in disbelief."No."  
"You find my question absurd?" Weber paused.  
"Yes.... because Charles never did anything like that.... he isn't a consoling type of person."  
Mr Milne rose to object only to sit back down as the Legate shook his head brusquely at him and said ...."Personal opinion.....I'll allow it.... Carry on Herr Weber."

"Did you attempt to apologise, Sherlock ?"  
"Yes. I said sorry.Twice. "  
"And did Charles acknowledge that apology in any way?"  
"No."  
"What did you learn from this first 'corrective' discipline Sherlock in your opinion?" Aric trod carefully , knowing Milne was desperate to interrupt.  
"To always pay attention when Charles spoke.... or when he was in the same room."

Aric gave a a slow thoughtful hmmm. "In the footage we just viewed ....another 'correctional' slam of your head into a hard, solid surface followed by a 'correctional' punch into your back and a deliberate 'correctional' blow of his knee into your cheekbone once you were couched, defenceless on the floor..... "  
Milne roared his objections...."Objection! Mr Weber cannot know with any surety why Charles felt his Omega needed disciplining or how valid his reasons for doing so were."  
" Over ruled."

Weber continued quickly when the Legate allowed it. "What lesson was being imparted there, Sherlock? Do you recall?"  
"I wasn't to move away from his touch. " Sherlock said. "I'd moved my head.... when he kissed me...."  
"Ah...!" Weber said, his voice full of a thoughtful, decent consideration. "It seems a insignificant misdeamour for you to have made Sherlock, does it not? A 14 year old Omega boy who is desperately trying to cope in new circumstances, in a strange country, surrounded by unfamiliar people.... trying to adapt to the unfamiliar sexual demands of an adult Alpha bondmate he does not know well.... _moves his head away an inch or so _."__  
"Objection..... whilst Herr Weber paints a entertainingly lurid scene, much of it is pure speculation."  
"If I may continue the footage?" Weber waited and received a brisk nod from the Legate by way of consent and hit play.  
On screen Charles Magnussen pulled Sherlock up with one handful of soft dark curls....before grabbing Sherlock's jaw, fingers digging into the Omega's tearful face.  
Sherlock remembered the harsh angry words....  
" _Do not pull away from me, Sherlock_. "  
On the huge screen Charles used Sherlock's hair to force the Omega's head back for another kiss.... 

Weber paused the footage.... "You are holding onto the table edge with both hands Sherlock.....Why?"  
Sherlock turned his head to stare bemusedly at the still footage. Both his white knuckled hands could clearly be seen grabbing onto the table edge.  
The Legate looked long and hard at the screen.  
"I have to stand still...."Sherlock said as though that explained everything.  
"Did you feel unsteady on your feet? Unwell?" Weber's tone was measured.  
"A little .... but I have to stand still...." Sherlock looked helplessly towards Mycroft.  
"And that's proving dificult?"  
Charles Magnussen's cold watchful eyes were locked on Sherlock.  
"Yes.... I don't want him that close to me.... I don't want him kissing me.... I want to move away. " Sherlock hesitated, keeping his eyes only on Weber. "I wanted to push him away... I can't let go... in case I do it."

Sherlock's hands shook as he took a gulp of water.  
"It's been an emotive morning, Sherlock.... asking you to dredge up events from so far back in your past." Mr Milne said matter of factly, the inference was clear.... Sherlock could not be expected to remember..... "You are 20 tomorrow are you not?"  
"Yes."  
"Many congratulations. So .... these events took place 6 years ago? It must be difficult to be asked to recall small details such as your thoughts at that time?"  
Sherlock said nothing.  
"Especially following such a unpredictable event as one of your first corrections from your new Alpha....?"  
Sherlock made no answer but there was a marked vibration running through his slim body.  
The Legate glanced across...."Are you feeling well enough to continue Sherlock?"  
"Yes..."  
"Then you must answer Mr Milne's questions verbally."  
"Sorry.... Sorry." Sherlock apologised fast.  
Milne gave the Omega a coldly patronising smile. "That's quite alright, Sherlock. You were distracted...."

"You've admitted yourself that you felt unwell during the drive from your family home to the airport?"  
"Yes."  
"Unwell in what way?"  
"Tired. My head ached. I ached." Sherlock answered in a low , unhappy voice. His reluctance to answer palpable.  
"And you were feeling a little homesick?" Milne said with a manufactured kindness.  
"Yes."  
"Leaving your family behind would make anyone emotional, it's a bittersweet moment for any young Omega, the end of an era and the beginning of a new life alongside a bond mate ....so Sherlock, isn't it possible that Charles spoke to you more than just the once and that you simply did not hear him do so? Yes or no?"  
"Yes.... "  
"So in fact when he struck you he may have done so after being ignored more than once?"  
"It's possible." Sherlock admitted resentfully.

 

Mr Milne leant both hands on the front of the witness box. "The footage is quite difficult to watch. You are after all very young and clearly you were upset to receive a physical reprimand from your Alpha.... Had you been accustomed to physical discipline within your own home?"  
" Siger used a cane."  
"And did your behaviour merit its use often?"  
"Siger thought so." Sherlock said in a monotone.  
"You disagreed with your Father's disciplinary decisions?"  
"I didn't say that." Sherlock said.  
"Objection....Siger Holmes approach to the discipline of his son is irrelevent to proceedings today." Aric looked up from the makings of his chrome and black pipe to interject with a calm placidity.  
"Agreed.... move on Mr Milne." The Legate ruled.

"But you agree you knew disobedience or showing a lack of respect towards a Dominus Alpha could result in punishment? You must have expected that?" Milne leant on the front of the witness box as he waited for Sherlock to be forced to agree with him and smiled down knowingly as the Omega inched back in his chair, a constant tremor running through his slim body.  
Sherlock didn't agree, frail but obstinate...."It wasn't the same. If I did wrong at home I was shouted at.... caned then punished, sent to my room usually....""  
The Legate leant foward.... to watch Sherlock's face, since Milne was so close to the witness... "Why do you claim there is a pronounced difference, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock's whole body was tense... Mycroft and Riddick were blocked from view by Milne's body and Sherlock struggled to have an unknown Elite Alpha so close to him without panicking.....  
"Because you know it's coming when it's a cane, they've had to get the cane out so you've seen it's there, you know what's going to happen.... when someone just hits you.....it's worse.... it's just.... BAM!" Suddenly Sherlock swung a clenched fist out wildly, pulling the punch at the last moment before it connected.  
Milne exclaimed loudly and took a swift step back..... there was a loud collective intake of startled shock, followed by uneasy, relieved laughter from scattered locations around the court. "Sorry, " Sherlock said insincerely to a still startled Milne. " I just meant to demonstrate .... that you don't see it's coming so its worse.... it's more frightening because you aren't expecting it."  
"Order ....order!" The usher yelled as the Legate bought his hammer down..

John leant across to Riddick, asking in a low tone...." What the Hell! Did you teach him to throw a punch like that?"  
"Aye... I'd boxing gloves. We tried a bit of sparring. Him trying to punch me... I never aimed a blow at him, just blocked. He's a natural boxer, fast reflexes," came the unexpected reply. 

Mr Milne took a few moments to begin his cross examination again.... collecting his thoughts and staying a little further back....  
"Had Charles had reason to speak to you before concerning your responsiveness during sexually intimate moments between you both?"  
"Yes...." Now Sherlock was openly reluctant to answer.  
"He did? When?"  
"In the heat suite at the hotel."  
"Could you elaborate? Why did your behaviour inside the heat suite merit a reprimand?"  
"I didn't want him ... to do what he was doing." Sherlock said miserably.  
"Would it be fair to say that you panicked Sherlock and had you not been restrained would have injured yourself or Mr Magnussen during the knotted phase of the mating? As Charles will testify.... he was forced to control you for your own safety was he not?"  
"You'd fight if something hurt you." Sherlock was angry, flushed with humiliation.  
Milne paused..... " I imagine I may ....but your heat was over....this was merely a kiss.... a kiss from your lawfully bonded Alpha.... and you still pulled away? Why?"  
"I didn't like it." Sherlock avoided looking at the entire Alpha side of the packed court.  
"You didn't enjoy kissing? I find that hard to believe...." Milne said with open, contemptuous disbelief.  
"No...." Sherlock faltered.  
Weber was on his feet.... "Objection, Sherlock was 14 and inexperienced.....!"  
"I'll bear that in mind Herr Weber.... continue Mr Milne." The Legate replied patiently.

"Besides Charles Magnussen ....have you kissed any other Alpha males Sherlock?"  
"Objection....irrelevance!" Weber said sharply.  
"I'll allow it...." The Legate dismissed the objection.  
Sherlock looked flustered...."Yes."  
"Before your bond at 14?"  
"No." Sherlock admitted.  
"During your Bond?" Milne made sure he sounded surprised, playing up for the packed court.  
"Yes." Sherlock was still and quiet.  
"So... during your six year bond, despite claiming to dislike kissing your legally bonded Alpha, you chose to kiss two Alpha males ... would it be safe to say Sherlock that it was not kissing per se you disliked?"  
Sherlock was shaking.  
"That's not fair. He never asked to be bonded...he had no choice!" John's voice was loud and clear.  
"Silence.... Dr Watson, if you interupt court proceedings again, I will hold you in contempt and have you removed to the cells!" The Legate was openly angry at the interruption.

"I put it to you Sherlock, that you simply refused to open your heart .... much as you simply refused to open your mouth to respond to Charles's kiss....you didn't wish to be bonded? You made your childish resentment of Charles Magnussen all too clear , did you not? Moving your head away from his kiss? A kiss to which Charles was legally entitled?" Milne leant in towering over the seated Omega as Sherlock shrank back.  
"Objection....physical intimidation of my witness!" Weber roared forcefully, surging to his feet with startling speed for a heavy set man.  
"I didn't!" Sherlock swayed before he caught hold of the front of the witness box to steady himself. "I never..."  
"You never...? Never cheated inside your bond? Never kissed two Alpha when bonded legally to another ? Never denied your Alpha the responsive open sexual contact he deserved? You portray yourself as quite the innocent victim don't you Sherlock?"

The Legate bought the hammer down repeatedly.  
"Silence....silence in Court!" The usher called loudly.  
Into the sudden silence Sherlock spoke , his voice sullen..... "I never wanted to be bonded. I knew I wasn't ready.... I said so but nobody cared to hear what I said. I told Charles I couldn't like him.... that way.... he didn't care. He said he liked it that I didn't...."  
The Legate's firm voice sliced through Sherlock's distress. "I'd like you to explain that comment, Sherlock.... Are you referring to Charles Magnussen?"  
"Yes." Sherlock's voice was full of raw emotion. "He didn't care that I didn't like him .... or what he did.... He never hid it.... if I hated what he did , he did it more...."  
Every eye was on Sherlock's stark white face.

"One more time." The Legate checked again. "Sherlock, is it your testimony that Mr Magnussen deliberately tried to distress you in the sexually intimate relationship between you both.... that Charles gained additional sexual satisfaction from causing you such distress?"  
"It wasn't an intimate sexual anything....It was rape." Sherlock wiped angrily at his wet eyes.... humiliated to be seen crying.  
"You insolent whore! You forget yourself!" Charles Magnussen's bitter, livid voice echoed through the room. "Lying whore....how dare you. Sherlock!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boxing....there are several mentions in Conan Doyle's stories of Sherlock Holmes being a talented boxer.  
> With Milne looming over Sherlock it seemed likely that Sherlock would feel cornered and be pushed to react.  
> I thought it'd be cool to include and link it to Riddick...... self defence seems like a skill he would want Sherlock to learn.


	47. Never Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sherlock's 20th birthday.  
> For the first time in his life he wakes up safe, loved and happy.  
> He and Riddick try to put some of what they learnt in therapy into action.....results aren't as expected LOL.
> 
> Aleksander wakes up with a all too familiar problem.
> 
> Mycroft realises even he can struggle to control his Alpha urges at times....  
> Greg gets a ride to work and a date....among other things .....  
> Martha bakes a cake and answers the door....( trust me that's a lot more pivotal plotwise than it sounds!)
> 
> John wakes up in a bed he wishes he'd never got into.....  
> Angered by events in the Bond Court, Charles makes his first move.....  
> Sherlock has a traumatising flashback from his past and lashes out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summat...something.  
> Bandy..... Bow legged.  
> Brew....tea.  
> Bung the kettle on....boil the kettle.
> 
> Soul Gaze....a therapy couples exercise. Without touching or speaking you sit close , gaze into each others eyes and try to see the soul behind the face you know and love.
> 
> The track is .....Dusk To Dawn by Zayn feat. Sia.

Sherlock snuggled closer.... the heat and solidity of Alan's body against his making him feel warm and loved... and breathed in slowly, scenting skin until he felt grounded.  
"Happy birthday, flower...." Alan laughed at the indignant prod the traditional Yorkshire endearment always earnt him from Sherlock.  
"Flower.....?" Sherlock scoffed gently but Alan could feel the Omega smiling against his neck.  
"White rose..... mebbe a snowdrop.... " Alan mused it over while he tightened his arm round Sherlock....  
Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically and gave Alan's ribs a firm poke to bring him back to reality.....

 

Aleksander woke up feeling warm and wet....  
No....  
He was out of the bed in seconds , stood bare foot and reeking of hot urine on the thick carpet of his bedroom, his light blue pj's sodden.  
No!  
Moving fast he pulled back the duvet in its crisp cover and there it was.... a dark , spreading stain of wet right in the middle of the sheet.  
No.....no, no , no.... He'd wet the bed.

The huge wooden drawer where his clean pj's were stored was heavy to open , Aleksander sat down and heaved at the brass drawer handles with both bare feet braced on the drawer beneath. He took a striped pair carefully knowing if he disturbed the neatly folded ordered lines of clothes his maid would see.  
Pushing the heavy, deep drawer closed with both feet Aleksander knew he was walking funny as he made for the bathroom.... his sodden cooling wetness of his pj's clung clammily to his skin so he kept his legs super straight.

In the huge expanse of marbled floor Aleksander hopped awkwardly in his underpants as he tried to kick off the saturated pyjama bottoms from around his feet....the wet underpants came off next and Aleksander was quick to scramble into his new clean pj's as the morning air hit his damp skin.  
There was a big white laundry basket and Aleksander dug right to the bottom to hide his wet clothing underneath all the other clothes.

He had a sinking feeling when he took a second look at the bed.... the wet patch looked even bigger and he could definately smell a pee smell.  
As soon as the maid came into make his bed she'd know .... and she'd tell...she didn't like him.  
In desperation he put his biggest stuffed toy, Tiger, right on top of the dark stain and folded back the duvet as neatly as he could .... hoping it looked like he'd already made his own bed.  
Maybe she wouldn't notice until after Fader had left for the Court.... maybe even if she did see she wouldn't tell, not if he promised to be good all week and not get out his toys. She really, really hated his toy soldiers, ever since she trod on one.... she said they made a mess of the whole floor.... so, if he promised not to play with any toys all week.... maybe she wouldn't say that it had happened again.  
If she did say.... Fader would be angry. He'd been really angry last time.... and the times before that.  
Maybe he'd be angry enough to get the cane out.  
Why had he wet the bed! It wasn't fair.  
He hadn't even drunk anything after dinner and he'd got out of bed twice to use the toilet.  
None of the other boys in his class still wet the bed every night! Why was he still a dirty baby and nobody else?  
Maybe there was something wrong with him? Since he couldn't get back into his wet bed now.... he put on his dressing gown and sat on the floor worrying.

Mycroft was disturbed to find that confusingly vague, erotic dreams featuring Gregory had become a regular feature of his night and turgid morning erections an increasingly prominent issue to be studiously ignored in his mornings.  
A few pleasant moments spent considering the golden, halo of amber lights in Gregory's eyes had resulted in ... this state of tumescently, adolescent arousal?  
Good grief... how did normal people get anything done if they woke up in this ridiculous condition daily....  
"Could you just accept nothing whatsoever of a sexual nature is about to happen? " Mycroft groaned before the lunacy of addressing his own stiffly erect penis dawned on him...."Oh....just go down....I have important things to do!"  
Ten minutes later his penis was still sporting an admittedly impressive double knot that showed no significant signs of abatement.....He had clearly underestimated it's stubbornly recalcitrant nature.....  
Having escaped it in his teenage years... the era of the cold morning shower and/or fervent masturbation had dawned.

Charles Magnussen watched his son closely as the child helped himself to scrambled eggs.  
There was an anxious, muted flatness to the child's movements that reminded Charles of Sherlock.  
"You have something to tell me Aleksander?"  
The child's carefully loaded fork froze midway to his mouth.... "No Fader.... Nothing."  
Charles gave his son a stern stare.... "If I find you have lied to me when I gave you the opportunity to confess a fault , you can expect to be punished."  
Aleksander put his forkful of egg into his mouth and chewed guiltily .... surprised to find he wasn't hungry anymore.

Mrs Hudson finished wrapping the box of chocolates she'd bought Sherlock and was writing the card when the door bell rang.  
Outside a dark red van from an exclusive Knightsbridge florist idled at the kerb.  
"Delivery for Sherlock Holmes...."  
"Oh my goodness!" The bouquet was enormous.... 100 perfect pink and red roses , heavily perfumed blooms that Martha could smell from where she stood. "Oh... how beautiful!" Martha was reminded of the bouquets given on opening nights as she took hold , noticing the small dark red envelope attached to the opulent bouquet as she did. "What a wonderful bouquet!"  
Upstairs the front door was open and Martha could hear muted laughter from the bedroom as she placed the gorgeous bouquet quietly upon the table where Sherlock would see it straightaway when he opened the bedroom door.  
The floral perfume was already filling the air as she went back downstairs . She had a lemon and white chocolate birthday cake to bake!

Sherlock couldn't stop laughing.... every single time they tried this.....  
"Bloody Heck ... not again..." Alan was embarassed. "This is ruddy impossible!" The bloody therapist hadn't a clue what being this close to an Elite Omega like Sherlock was like!  
"Look into my eyes...." Sherlock said in a eerie, hypnotic tone amid uncontrollable out bursts of giggles. "Repeat after me ....I can do this .... my cock will stay down."  
Riddick was trying to keep the bloody thing down... he really was.... the therapist had said they couldn't touch sexually during the Soul Gaze thing, it was all about eye contact ....  
How could staring into Sherlock's inky blue eyes without getting aroused be so bloody hard.... literally.....  
"God you are just beautiful, lad" Alan breathed the words out.... besotted.

Sherlock had leant in so close Riddick could smell the heady vanilla richness of the Omega's skin....tutting teasingly as Alan desperately fixated on his lips.... " You aren't meant to have this _big, fat knot _...." Sherlock let one slim finger trace its heavy bulbous outline through Alan's pyjama bottoms... before using two fingers to caress his way up the underside of the shaft .... Alan gave a guttural growl.__  
"And what's this I'm feeling? Mr _Hardcock _isnt going to be at all happy when he hears about this... " Sherlock said the name with a deliciously, smutty relish.__  
"Yeah....? Well lucky for me... what he doesn't know about won't hurt him any." Alan bluffed it out as his cock throbbed.  
"Oh ... but I'm going to have to tell him all about it at the next session...." Sherlock teased as his fingers caressed cock head and fabric both. "I think I need to investigate what you're hiding down here ....it all feels suspiciously _hard _"  
Sherlock slid fingertips inside Alan's straining fly and touched hot bare cock skin.__

__

__

Within minutes a bewildered, engorged Riddick was swearing inarticulately.... "Fuck lad...! Right there. Jesus....Christ.... God love... Sherlock....Christ Sherlock... c'mere to me you little beauty...! I've got summat for you that'd have Mr Ruddy _Hardcock _walking bandy legged for weeks!".... He gave up any thoughts of restraint and tugged Sherlock down into the heaped duvet with him ....  
Martha shook her head tolerantly at the peals of indecent laughter echoing down the stairs and carried on lining her sponge tin with baking paper.....__

____

_____ _

Greg hated wrapping presents.... it was a knack and he just didn't have it! Half a roll of sellotape and several lost ends of invisible sticky tape later and it looked like it'd already been opened and rewrapped in the same paper several times over.....  
Mycroft's sumptuously wrapped gift sat on the car seat between them.... all crisp luxury paper with gilded golden ribbon and beautiful copperplate flowing handwriting on its perfect little tag.....  
He was so focused on the shoddy inadequacies of his own gift wrap that it took him a few moments to realise Mycroft was watching him .  
"As a boy... I had a Japanese tutor.... she was kind enough to teach me the art of origami..."  
Mycroft's hand landed briefly on Greg's thigh .... when he lifted it there was a small paper spinning top made from the same paper Sherlock's gift was wrapped in , on top of Greg's leg.  
Greg took it up into his palm .... seeing each tiny intricately folded paper layer....."You made this....for me?"  
"I sometimes find .... concentrating on something intricate and time consuming .... therapeutically calming." Mycroft replied.  
Greg slipped the tiny paper top carefully into his jacket pocket. As always with Mycroft he felt his way slowly.... "I've a spare ticket to a jazz dinner and dance.... a fund raiser for NSY.... is it your kind of thing?"

"Jazz?" Mycroft sounded like he was giving the type of music equally as much consideration as he was the date....but Greg looked to his eyes and saw how surprised he was. "You're asking me .... to accompany you , Gregory?"  
"I thought ... dinner , good food .... good music.... good company..... Your company.... " More than anything, I want you to say yeah...  
"That would appear to constitute a date?" Mycroft said uncertainly.  
Greg shifted in his seat to face Mycroft.... "It's a date... only _if _you agree to come with me.....So.... will you? "__  
Mycroft moved to see Gregory's face.... "I've never been on any type of a romantic date before."  
"Is that your way of saying no very politely?" Greg eyes were fixed on Mycroft's pale pink lips.  
"It's my way of saying yes...." Mycroft said. "Yes to jazz... yes to dinner .... Yes... to you." Specifically, yes to you.  
"See? Now it's a date." Greg said and leant in , his mouth on Mycroft's finally ....

In the rocking bed Sherlock's own gasps of pleasure stuttered and stilled and Riddick knew from the sudden hot wetness filling his palm and the fingers he had round Sherlock's slim cock that the Omega had just reached orgasm ....Pressing a kiss to the boy's flushed cheek, Alan pushed Sherlock's thighs together round his pumping cock as he thrust harder and spilled seconds after .... his heavy hot spurts splattering between both Sherlock's trembling legs.  
Behind him Alan laid his head down on top of the lad's shoulder and fought to steady his breathing..... tightening his arms around the erratic rise and fall of Sherlock's ribcage....  
It took a while for his speeding heart to steady but as soon as he could say it, he checked.... "Alright love?"  
His only answer was a sleepy mumble.... "Mmmm..... Love you."  
Alan moved his hugging hold to include Neep and closed his eyes......

John rolled over and stared at the low, stained ceiling above his head.  
Sherlock's birthday today.  
On the other side of the double bed, the Beta woman he'd gone home with last night was almost invisible under the duvet... a tousled mess of short dyed blond hair with one breast showing.  
Isabel.... or was it Sonia....? John turned his head to look for framed photographic clues just as the other person in the bed with him rolled over..... shit, no it was Mary, one of the Nurses.  
He didn't even fancy her. He didn't even like her.  
How the Hell was he here in bed with this woman with the wide, empty eyes and cloying face paint of a china doll!  
"Good morning lover !" Mary yawned as she spoke. "How did you sleep?"  
SHIT. How fast could he dress and go... without looking like a utter bastard?

Pretty damn fast as it happened.....  
Outside Mary's flat in the wide plane tree lined Battersea street John sucked in a lungful of fresh air in the hopes of sobering up and took a quick glance at his phone.... 6 missed calls from Saul and a single angry text that began....WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN! ALL NIGHT? CALL ME. LET ME KNOW UR OK.  
Heavy drops of rain began marking the pavement and John took a step back , beneath the nearest tree with its strangely lopped branches, just as it began to bucket down.  
Mary opened the door, in a bright pink silky robe and some furry slippers and called out loudly enough to make a jogger turn his head and stare...."John? Come back in and wait for the cab. I really don't mind , he says he'll be at least 10 minutes..."  
There was no ok way to say no.

"Can I make you some eggs , John?"  
"No... thanks." John declined the offer awkwardly.  
What should he say to get out of this .....  
The thing is Mary.... I'd had too much to drink....I'm living with someone....I don't really fancy you now I've sobered up....You aren't my type.... Your fake posh girl accent gets right under my skin..... It's me not you... I do this to myself.....  
"Coffee John? I've latte or cappucino sachets?"  
John watched the rain drops teeming down the grimy window panes.....  
"You don't drink tea?" He said.  
"Mint, camomile or green?" Mary asked brightly.  
"It's ok .... I'm fine without." John said bleakly.

 

Sleeping together after having sex was strange .... you woke up feeling boneless .... like you'd swum length after length in a pool.  
The grubby, sticky feeling wasn't nice....but the feeling that Alan loved and wanted him equally was unbeatable.  
"Up you get gorgeous lad.... shower's nice and steamy for you."  
Sherlock watched the muscles in Alan's back move as he sat down on the bed and scrubbed at his hair.... when Sherlock reached out Riddick's skin was tanned and moist and Sherlock could feel how damp the low slung towel around Alan's waist was.  
Alan laid a hand on top of Sherlock's just as it began to slip along his muscled thigh and under the wet towel, tugging it down.... "Best hold that thought.... Your brother said he'll be here in 10 minutes."  
"That's not impossible....time wise." Sherlock said and pressed his lips to one bare cheek of Riddick's strongly muscled arse.  
The laugh Alan gave was genuinely happy...."Oi you.... I'll have you know I never take less than 11 minutes start to finish..."  
It was such a stupid comeback that Sherlock couldn't stop laughing about it even in the shower....

Mycroft's car eased to a halt smoothly outside 221b and the policeman on guard turned to check who it was...  
Mycroft took a moment to check himself for telltale signs he'd once again been 'snogging' as Sherlock so inelegantly put it.  
A slight pink flush and an askew tie and pocket square were easily fixed.  
The days second erection may take a while longer.....  
Gregory was the most incredible kisser.... his mouth could be so demanding but still giving at the same time and....when he pressed in close enough that their very breath mixed and mingled.... the scent of his skin was all consuming...the whole car still smelt wonderful.  
Ruefully Mycroft was forced to admit that particular line of thought was not helpful under the circumstances as his cock gave a sudden pulse.....so he took out his phone and concentrated his mind on other things..... Government committees and foreign investment risks.....and most decidedly _not _the taste of Gregory's tongue...._ _

"Alan... I'm making bacon and eggs." Sherlock stuck his head around the door and smiled at Alan's foam covered face as the Alpha tilted his head back to shave under his chin without losing too much beard.  
"No you aren't, lovely lad.... it's your birthday.... hang on a minute more and I'll get you some." Alan promised. "You can bung the kettle on if you want?"  
"Ok." Sherlock met Alan's smiling eyes in the mirror.... this was the best birthday he'd ever had.... loads of kisses, no burnt offerings for breakfast, and Mrs Hudson said she was making cake and Alan didn't look like he was going out any time soon....

The second he opened the door he smelt it.... the heavy redolent scent of roses and instantly he stopped dead.....  
Ahead of him like a ticking time bomb was one of Charles's trademark floral bouquets of roses.  
Sherlock doubled over and vomited , his empty stomach clenching painfully as he tried to throw up contents that weren't there to be ejected

Mycroft was tapping at the screen.... when the driver slid down the privacy screen unexpectedly.  
"Sir... the car parked across the road is Charles Magnussen's.... I've sent for back up."  
No sooner had Mycroft sent the first alert texts to Riddick, John and Gregory, than the front door of 221b was flung wide open and Sherlock came flying out barefooted into a stream of pedestrians and then heart stoppingly out into the heavy traffic , a huge bouquet crushed in one hand and his pregnant shape mercifully hidden beneath a massive jacket that clearly belonged to Alan Riddick.

"CODE RED 9..."Mycroft snapped and the driver pulled right out across two lanes of oncoming traffic as it screeched to a chaotic halt.... there was a jolt as a car ran into Mycroft's vehicle and his head snapped forward.  
The driver shot out of the car and crouched, firearm covering Sherlock as he ran.  
Alan Riddick sprinted out of the open door and vaulted the bonnet of Mycroft's car with a loud thump , gun in hand, as Mycroft threw open the car door and stood out, yelling his brothers name amid blaring horns and the sound of police sirens.

Sherlock dodged a motor bike as it screeched around him and slammed both hands on the roof of Magnussen's car...." Open the window!"  
Alan yelled a warning as the electric window slid down....."GET BACK....SHERLOCK .... GET BACK!"  
There was a brief sighting of whoever was sat inside the car then Sherlock raised the massive bouquet high above his head and bought it down with both hands, whipping it against the open car window as broken blooms, leaves and fronds flew everywhere.....  
"Stick your fucking flowers up your fucking arse! I hate you....I hate you!" Sherlock yelled furiously at the car as Alan canoned into him, grabbed hold above and below Sherlock's belly and swung him away towards safety.  
Mycroft watched in speechless horror as the flash bulbs of the press pack lit up like Las Vegas, knowing he was seeing tomorrow's lurid headlines...... 


	48. Questions  & Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Team are shocked that Sherlock confronted CAM.... Sherlock enjoyed his first BAMF moment but Riddick isn't so sure .....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owt....anything.
> 
> Martha's reaction is being saved for later...
> 
> Thanks for the track rec Blue....Walking With Wolves by Aurora

Sherlock was talking and walking at speed, gesticulating with both hands as he whirled past Riddick down to the windows and span around before pacing back towards his brother. "Is he gone? Mycroft? Is he gone?"  
Mycroft was seated at the kitchen table.... the back of his neck aching from the jarring impact of another car striking the one he had been sat in. Ignoring the question, which he had already answered several times in a row, he spoke into the phone. "If you would be so kind, John... I am in ... considerable discomfort."  
"He coming?" Alan checked John was on his way there.  
"Yes." Mycroft said , his eyes moving past Alan to Sherlock who was at the window , checking the street below again before moving away fretfully.

Alan Riddick let Sherlock move past him before he closed the curtains.... blocking out both the police filled street and the view of the assorted press pack behind their cordon. "Sit yourself down, lad."  
If Sherlock heard Alan he gave no visible sign of doing so....."Flowers .... fucking flowers...!" He side stepped the armchair and went to the window....pulling the curtain back to look out. "Did you see his face Alan, when I said I hated him? Did you see?"  
" I saw. " Alan watched Sherlock closely. "He's gone, love.You need to sit yourself down, Sherlock."  
"God I hate his roses.... I hate them! I always did."  
"Aye... I know."

Mycroft winced painfully as he turned his head to keep Sherlock in his line of sight as his brother returned to the window.... Alan's stiff body language caught and held his eye. The Alpha's back was rigid.  
"They were right on the table! The _table _Alan!" Sherlock expostulated with a huge two armed gesture. "Stinking out the whole flat!" He whirled away, agitated. "I showed him....You saw me didn't you?....Ha, soon as he opened the window....bash! He didn't see _that _coming!"_ ___

____

Alan drew in a deep breath and as Sherlock went to go by .... deliberately stepped into the way.... "You need to settle down.... Just sit down for a minute, Sherlock."  
Sherlock shifted from foot to foot, finding it impossible to stand still..."On my birthday, Alan ....on my _bloody _birthday! In our home!"__  
Sherlock sidestepped to get around Riddick and resume pacing only for Alan to spread out both arms wide like he was stopping a runaway horse. "Whoa...."  
"I can't.... Alan he was so close.... The flowers went all over him ...You should have seen him! Did you see? You must have?"

Alan's hands fell on both Sherlocks' thin shoulders.... and Mycroft could hear the sharp inhalation he took from the kitchen...."You want to know what I saw , lad?...You, running into traffic and nearly getting hit by a sodding motor bike!... You, stood so close to that sick fucker he could have touched you! ....Hell, he could have dragged into that car and had you away before I could do a single bloody thing about it!...How long do you think Neep would have stayed alive inside you then, once that bastard got a hold of you again?" Alan's voice vibrated with emotion. "Your brother's over there shook with pain and John's had to leave work to come here and make sure you and the baby are both alright!" Another audible intake of breath as Alan controlled himself. " I want your arse parked in that chair right now and don't you dare shift out of it, lad!"  
There was a stunned silence....then a guilty...."Oh..." as it all dawned on Sherlock....  
"Yeah... _Oh _..." Alan said.__

Sat in the chair and unable to move Sherlock's leg kept bouncing up and down as Riddick pushed a flat palm on top of the lean muscle to try and stop it. "This stress can't be any bloody good for the baby."Alan crouched down so he could see Sherlock's face. "Lean your head forward."  
"What? ...No...Why?" Sherlock hesitated , still in a heightened belligerent mood and as Alan's hand reached out for the back of his neck, he recoiled back....  
Alan lifted his brows, a look on his face that plainly said, 'I'd never hurt you'....

"I just hate him so much Alan. He had no right!"  
"Aye I know."Alan shook his head even as he agreed verbally, "But you're pregnant, Sherlock.... the last place I want to see you and Neep is so close to that bastard he could touch you. If owt happened.... "  
Sherlock said nothing but Mycroft watched as he leant in and touched his forehead against Alan's in wordless apology.  
"I'd not survive losing you lad. Don't you see that?" Alan said desperately and Sherlock's arms came up around his shoulders and held on.  
" I'm right here."  
"Aye... but it's keeping you here that's the problem.... You have to let me keep you safe love."

Mycroft could hear the pleading note in the other Alpha's voice. He wondered how Sherlock would react....  
"I'll be more careful. I'll think next time. I promise." Sherlock gave his word, his voice gentle.... coaxing Riddick round. "I'll let you look after me and Neep.... I will."  
Mycroft heard the shaky sigh Alan gave as his arms wrapped Sherlock round.

"Is this strictly necessary, John?" Mycroft complained.  
" Yeah, it is.... Why is it people always send for a Doctor then argue when he gives them his medical opinion? That seem a bit mad to you?" John said wryly.  
"I thought perhaps some pain relief?" Mycroft winced as John's examination pressed on a tender muscle below the skin.  
" You'll be getting that too ....And I thought Sherlock was the difficult patient in the Holmes family." John laughed. "Unless you've a medical degree you've never mentioned.... just put the whiplash collar on, Mycroft."

"How's Mycroft?" Sherlock asked as John placed the sonic aid on his bump.  
"Loving the cervical collar I've got him wearing." John grinned. "He had to take off his tie and unbutton so many shirt buttons to get it on, all he needs now is a medallion and some chest hair to be in a 70's tribute band." He was surprised when Sherlock gave a weak smile but didn't laugh  
The fast beats of Neep's heart filled the bedroom as John turned the volume up. "Baby's good...."  
Sherlock's quick smile as soon as he heard the sound was full of sheer relief.  
"Your pulse is fast.... heart rate is a little up. You need to stay lying flat for an hour or so."  
" An hour ? A whole hour?" Sherlock went for negotiation, his voice wheedling. " It's my birthday ... I can just lay on the couch, can't I? Mrs Hudson's making cake , John. Cake !"  
"Well lie still and maybe I'll let you get up and have some... after an hour or so." John grinned.... immune to Sherlock's persuasive tactics. " Happy birthday by the way!"  
Sherlock frowned just as Neep gave the sonic aid a mighty kick....  
"Wow.... someone's fiesty." John laughed. There was a hesitation before he asked...."Can I feel him kick Sherlock?"  
Sherlock looked surprised to be asked. "Yes, course you can."  
John placed his hand over the firm rise of Sherlock's small belly and was instantly rewarded with a scattered attack of tiny kicks that made Sherlock's skin jump. "He'll need football boots at this rate. That's some kick!" John looked up at Sherlock with a smile to find Sherlock staring at him oddly.  
"There's lipstick behind your ear." Sherlock said awkwardly. "Pink lipstick.... and more on your shirt collar..... Not a shade I've ever seen Saul in."  
"No,"John admitted.

"You have a girlfriend as well as Saul?" Sherlock sounded curious.  
"Not a girlfriend , no."  
"Then what?"  
"It's nothing.... We went out for a few drinks after work, Mary was part of the work crowd. It's not a relationship , Sherlock."  
"But you slept with her?"  
"Yeah. I must have."  
"You _must _have? You don't remember?" Sherlock was openly mystified.__  
" I remember talking to her, but it was just basic work stuff. I was stood at the bar, she was trying to get served . The pub was pretty crowded." John answered.  
"You don't remember drinking with her either?" Sherlock's eyes scanned John.  
"Nope, but I got hammered." John said. "Mind you she was a lot less hungover than I was this morning."  
"Hmmm," Sherlock said thoughtfully......"Can you ask Alan to bring me my violin. If I've got to lay here and be bored for hours I'll have to entertain myself."

The disconsolate sound of Sherlock savagely sawing at the strings with the bow, while laying flat on his back echoed through the flat for two hours until finally it was time to open some presents ....


	49. Unwrapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets to unwrap his birthday gifts ...among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing my usual update last week...my bipolar was being a pain. Usually I'm more elevated mood wise and get a lot done but sometimes I have mad week then a crash and all work stops while I mope about feeling sorry for myself.... LOL thank God that's over!
> 
> Chuffed...pleased.  
> Mebbe...maybe.  
> Smitten... In love with
> 
> Blue ....the track is Circles by Riley Pearce.

Mycroft hadn't seen his brother sit crosslegged on the rug to unwrap a birthday gift in years.... he found Sherlock's bright eyed childlike excitement bought back more memories he'd thought long forgotten. He'd expected Alan Riddick to give Sherlock his own gift first but the Alpha made no move to do so, so Mycroft handed over his own immaculately wrapped gift and waited for Sherlock to shred open the paper within seconds as he'd always done .

Sherlock was clearly deducing what could be inside the box when he took it and Mycroft didn't miss the tiny initial shake and weigh his brother gave the present. It was typically Holmesian. He was surprised when Sherlock sat the gift carefully on the floor in front of him and took the time to read the label before lifting one edge of the wrapping with a precise finger slid underneath. He unfolded the gift wrap carefully as though he intended saving the paper to use again, fanning it out upon the rug before he he lifted the lid on the box inside the wrapping paper.  
Sherlock looked up and smiled as soon as he saw the thick sheets of old paper inside the box. "You bought me sheet music to play."  
Mycroft went to nod before he remembered his neck was immovable thanks to John's insistance on the cervical collar. "They date from 1676 .... all have flawless provenance proving them to have been written by Biber himself, Sherlock." He found he was anxious, would his gift be received well?  
John was stunned, God knows how much money Mycroft could have paid.

Sherlock looked up... " The 15 Mystery Sonatas..... the passacaglia... it was always my favourite piece to play. "  
"Quite so, brother mine."  
"Bloody Hell." Alan said."I'd best be sure not to put your mug of tea down anywhere near that."  
Sherlock smiled at Alan's teasing and Mycroft was distracted for a moment, by the sheer simplicity of the interaction, then found his attention bought back as Sherlock spoke. "Thank you so much, Mycroft."  
"You _do _like it , Sherlock?" Mycroft was unsure for a moment, thrown by his brother's emotional response. Perhaps he should have used the services of a professional shopper for a more youthful gift?  
"No....I more than like it." Sherlock's bright eyed smile lasted only a moment but was the one Mycroft recalled from the days before Magnussen. It was better than any thank you.__

____

"Ok... I was stuck for ideas," John said. "Then I remembered something.... I'm not taking any credit for the wrapping, the woman in the shop did that."  
Sherlock grinned and opened the gift bag. A small pile of leather bound antiquarian books were stacked one on top of the other in a neat pile and tied with a ribbon.  
John was clearly dying to explain but held it back until Sherlock had untied the ribbon and lifted the first book to read its spine. "Pathology text books , some early Victorian some date from later. I remember you saying each pathologist was a groundbreaker in his field when it came to poisons and their traces in the body after death?"  
"I've wanted to read these for so long , since school, John. I never thought I'd actually get to own them," Sherlock looked as though he couldn't believe his sudden good luck, stroking the spine of the books lovingly with his thumb. "Thank you."  
"You're welcome," John meant it. "I've got to run but I'll give you a call later when my shift ends. Happy birthday Sherlock...."

"Excuse the gift wrap," Greg said, embarassed by the mess he'd made of it as he gave Sherlock his present.  
Sherlock took a good look at all sides of the gift while he worked out where to begin .... there was so much sellotape it was hard to know where to start.  
Mycroft raised an eyebrow....  
Alan handed over a small Swiss Army knife...."Here use this, lad."  
Greg had to laugh... "I like to make unwrapping a challenge in itself."  
Sherlock finally had a small brown leather pouch in his hands. He looked curiously up at Greg before he opened it. Inside was a lock picking set.  
"Strictly speaking it's an illegal item but seeing as it dates from the 1940's I'm going to call it an antique." Greg explained. "An old guy I knew, who used to be a housebreaker, left it me in his will."  
" But...it's your own, somebody gave it to you?" Sherlock seemed shocked that Greg would give him such a personal gift.  
"Yeah, he was my first arrest, a proper old Cockney.... but it's yours now, Sherlock. Just don't go breaking into any houses with it." Greg joked.  
"Am I allowed to have it?" Sherlock surprised everyone by asking Mycroft, uncertainty mixed with longing to keep the gift plain upon his face.  
"Of course you may...." Mycroft felt a pang of sadness that Sherlock still felt he needed any Alpha's permission but Sherlock's smile, now he knew it was ok, was relieved.... he held the intricate metal kit it in his hands as he thanked Greg and afterwards Mycroft saw how his brother slipped it quietly into his pocket, liking the heavy compact weight of it .  
"Thank you Greg. I'll take good care of it. Always."

"Can I try picking your locks with my present?" Sherlock zeroed in on Mycroft like a missile, just as Mycroft made the fundamental error of replacing his teacup into the mismatched saucer and relaxing back into the armchair.  
"And what exactly is preventing you from first attempting the locks at 221b?" Mycroft asked cautiously.  
"After I've mastered our locks later today.... of course , I meant that." Sherlock was all wide eyed innocence.  
Greg laughed.... "It's not as easy as it looks in the old black and white movies you know Sherlock? There's a knack to it."  
Mycroft read the challenge in his brother's eyes correctly.... "It's your birthday, how could I refuse to allow you a vaguely criminal attempt upon the sanctity of my own home? I'll clear it with my home security team..... Shall we say 7 this evening, brother? You could stay for dinner , provided you do manage to gain access...."  
Sherlock gave a smug little smile. "7 _sharp _then."__  
"Either of you two paying any attention to me?" Greg said. "Lock picking is a skill. Could take you days, weeks even months to begin to get a feel for it...."  
Mycroft treated Greg to a smile that dangerously mixed supercilious with a hint of sexy arrogance. "I'm confident in Sherlock's abilities.... Dinner is Welsh lamb, Gregory? Shall we say pre dinner drinks at 6.30.... we should allow Sherlock _some _time for his attempt before the meal is served?"__  
"6.15,"Greg said. "At least give him forty five minutes to have a decent go at it, Mycroft."  
Both Holmes brothers exchanged sphinx like smiles.  
"Of course." Mycroft acceeded readily.... his curiousity about Riddick's own gift remaining unanswered as he stood to leave. Before he did so he reached into his coat pocket and took out a second , smaller boxed gift.

"It occurred to me that you may have a space for this, Sherlock."  
Sherlock opened the slim navy blue box .... inside under dark blue tissue paper was a silver framed photograph with a velvet backed frame ...  
A moment caught forever.... one of the many wholly happy days Sherlock would never forget from the months when it had just been himself and Mycroft.... no Siger, no Mummy.  
Back then it had seemed Mycroft was grown up and knew everything.... but the face that looked at Sherlock's from the photo now was that of a teenaged boy, rounded and unformed with freckles scattered across the nose. Hay fever shadows darkened Mycroft's skin under the eyes and a covering of plumpness hid the angular bones. The hands laid lightly on Sherlock's shoulders had fingernails bitten down to the quick and both brothers had black ink stained fingers but Mycroft's smile was as genuinely happy as Sherlock's. The black cardboard pirate hat with its wonky skull and crossbones, that sat at a jaunty angle on Sherlock's own head, was still as fantastic as he remembered it being.

"That was the best day. The hat was just right." Sherlock was almost afraid to look up from the photo in case Mycroft had forgotten.  
"Until the glue stuck in your hair...I should have insisted we wait longer." Mycroft shared the memory.... "I thought I'd never get the hat off without scalping you."  
" I was sure it was dry. You'd to cut a huge chunk of curls out with the kitchen scissors...." Sherlock hadn't forgotten the care Mycroft had taken , snipping away tiny strand after strand.  
"I seem to recall you complained vociferously...." There was a smile behind the voice. " 'Save the hat!' .... Not a care about losing your hair."  
"Hair grows back.... but that pirate hat .... was the best ever." Sherlock said. "I left it in my drawer.... in my old room. I'd kept it.... All the best things were in that drawer "  
Mycroft knew what was in that drawer.... the pirate hat, letters he'd exchanged with Sherlock when both were seperated by school, Redbeard's blue collar, a school photo of Sherlock and John taken after a rugby match with John covered in mud and the first science set Sherlock had ever owned. "Then it's still there , everything is as you left it, brother mine. If you ever wish to go back, you have only to ask....?"  
"One day." Sherlock said. "Not yet....When we can take Aleksander. He can try the hat on then."

Greg took a minute to check something with Riddick...."Sherlock can already pick locks can't he?"  
Alan seemed in a relaxed mood ....the low friendly chuckle was new. "You could say that....why'd you think Magnussen invested in the cameras and the digital locks? Before that there was no keeping him behind a locked door. We found him in the garden heading for the wall four times. After that the place became Fort Knox overnight."  
"So I've given him something he already had?" Damn it.  
"No... he can open a door with some wire and a couple of hair pins. Took us a while to work it out originally...."Alan said. "But he's not done it in years and he never had the proper kit.... just stole bits and pieces from about the house..... Look at his face. All lit up. He's chuffed to pieces with it Greg... with everything. It's a proper birthday and he's not had one of them in years."

"You know they think the party is a surprise?" Sherlock couldn't believe everyone thought him so unobservant.  
"You have to act like it was then , won't you love." Riddick got up and held out his hand to pull Sherlock up to his feet.... "Up you come lad, time to get ready." The gleam of pale gold on Sherlock's ring finger caught Alan's eye.... "You're wearing the ring I gave you?" His pride in seeing it on Sherlock's finger was obvious.  
"Yes...." Sherlock took a step closer to the shelter of Alan's body , startled to find he was craving more already. All he could think about today, seemed to be sex.... the need for more of it pumped through his veins like hot blood.

Alan's hands landed on the sharp bones of Sherlock's slim hips and gently tugged Sherlock closer still until the Omega's taut belly bumped against his own body.... " I should have asked you to bond before the bairn in the usual order of things but that can't be helped... There's no denying it's overdue, being as you're already carrying Neep, but I can't ask you that....yet." He gave Sherlock a kiss , pressed into his pale forehead .... "Least you know my intentions now with the promise ring.... don't you lad?"  
" I always knew your intentions..... It's not my knowing them you need to worry about. Mycroft is another matter....." Sherlock was a sweet shade of flushed pink as he rotated the ring around with a thumb, getting used to the feel of it on his bond finger. "We really need to work on your speech before we tell him about the ring tonight.... definitely dont say anything about 'intentions' to Mycroft.... he'll suspect they are distinctly pervy."  
"Some of them mebbe are..." Alan leered like a pantomime villian just to make the lad blush a bit more and was pleased by how fast it worked.... "Should I just tell him I've asked you to shack up with me in my little cabin in the woods?" Alan reached out and took Sherlock's hand in his own, stroking his thumb over the warm gold ring.  
"Even worse.... now it sounds like your 'intentions' include making a porno version of Red Riding Hood...." Sherlock said succinctly, winding his cold fingers in with Alan's warmer ones, knowing the ring meant a lot more than that.

Alan smiled at the teasing. "I'm not the best with words , unless it's between you and me lad. He'll probably have me locked up just for giving you the ring, whichever way I put things." Riddick raised Sherlock's hand up to plant a kiss over the narrow band, before he teased back.... "Maybe I'll keep it simple .... just tell him I swept you off your feet with the luxury comfort of off-grid life and you were smitten with the size of my wood axe soon as I showed it you...." He was laughing as he said it .... unable to keep a straight face at the daft notion of saying any such thing to Mycroft's face.

Sherlock smirked. " _So _much boasting about the size of your chopper." He gave Alan's hand a tug back towards the open bedroom door and the Alpha followed him without comment, almost tamely.... "Seeing as it's my birthday.... I think you should show me exactly what you can do with it.... "__  
Alan wrapped his arms round Sherlock before the Omega could take another step and mouthed at the back of his neck before blowing a hot streak over the wet skin as he teased .... " Like that again is it? You're getting to like the way I huff and puff all over you? "  
"I always liked that...." Sherlock was laughing as he turned around, slotted himself into Riddick's arms and stood still with his head tilted back to see the love in Alan's eyes as Riddick lifted a hand and stroked his thumb across the curved softness of Sherlock's lower lip with besotted fascination... "You do know you definitely can't be the wolf _and _the woodman, it's a conflict of interest...."__

"Watch me...." Alan grinned wolfishly before dropping his voice down low enough to send shivers of anticipation down Sherlock's spine...."Anyone ever told you what big beautiful eyes you've got?"  
"All the better to see you with...." Sherlock breathed the words out softly as Alan focused on the way his lips parted and moved as they shaped each word. Another little step and he could feel the hard bulge of Alan's cock against his own.  
"Come on and see some more of me then....my beautiful lad." Alan said smokily and lfted Sherlock up effortlessly to carry him in through the door as the Omega kicked it shut behind them with one socked foot.....

Downstairs Martha had just put the finishing touches to the swirled chocolate frosting on the four layered birthday cake she'd baked for Sherlock's surprise party later and was taking off her headphones when the sound of Alan Riddick yelling "Timber!" and Sherlock howling with laughter came echoing down through the bedroom above......  
Goodness..... what on earth were the pair of them up to now!


	50. It'll Be Reight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, Mycroft , Greg and Aric Weber meet to discuss the problems Sherlock's very public BAMF outburst has caused the Team.
> 
> The secret Mycroft and Alan are keeping is discussed but still kept back from Greg and Sherlock......
> 
> Alan and Sherlock have another sex therapy session.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll be reight ... Means everything will be alright.
> 
>  
> 
> Track is Something To Remember Me By by The Horrors.

ROGUE OMEGA RUNS RIOT....  
John winced inwardly at the headline and the front page photograph on the afternoon edition showing Sherlock lashing Magnussen's car with a giant bouquet of roses. As if the large photo wasn't bad enough Magnussen's editorial team had helpfully zoomed in and placed a photograph of Charles startled face alongside the main pictures ..... inside the paper there was a double spread which included a grim faced Alan Riddick hoisting Sherlock up into the air..... it may have been meant protectively but it looked brutal.

"How much damage has this done to us?" John said wearily. Lack of sleep on top of a killer hangover, a nightmare shift and a bitter text exchange with Saul, made it hard to muster the energy to be outraged.  
Aric breathed out heavily , disappearing for a instant behind a thick wreath of smoke. "There is no denying this weakens us and conveniently strengthens Charles claim..... that Sherlock is mentally unstable and being sexually and emotionally controlled by the Alpha around him...."  
Mycroft's exhalation was one of long suffering patience. "It's lunacy of course..... Alan Riddick may be many things yet a bullying Dominus is not one of them..."

"You did read the whole article?" Greg checked even though he knew Mycroft would have read and absorbed it's obvious bias within seconds...... "It's you they really have the knives out for. According to the newspaper's angle Alan Riddick was your plant, placed into Magnussen's home to interfere with his bond to your brother and ensure it failed, because you didn't consider Magnussen's Elite lineage to be the equal of the Holmes bloodline. You're the snobby mastermind behind the whole abduction apparently, Mycroft."  
"It's a ridiculous notion." Mycroft said calmly.

"It may be but the public love a good conspiracy theory." Greg pointed out.  
"If Charles Magnussen's family line wasn't good enough then Alan Riddick's definitely isn't." John said, swallowing two paracetamol with his tea. "Alcoholic brother, another serving ten years for armed robbery, sister on methadone .... step father with a history of violence to kids and wife, known to social services.... The press will have a field day there."  
"That's his family....not him." Greg commented."You can't pick and choose who you're related too."  
" Very true, Gregory." Mycroft appreciated the understated good sense of Greg's contribution. "Alan Riddick has been made aware of the probablity Magnussen will use all the ammunition at his disposal." Mycroft's tone was neutral.  
"To quote the man himself.... "It'll be reight." Greg said."All he cares about is Sherlock."

With the Detective Inspector gone and with him the lone voice of Omega opinion .... Aric chewed thoughtfully on his pipe..... "And the likelihood that Riddick will serve a custodial sentance for rape? How does that sit with the man?"  
"That information is not to be shared outside of those of us within this room. Riddick's response was much as you would expect.....he refuses to accept it may come to that. He asserts no rape took place..... He is however in agreement.... albeit very reluctantly..... that Sherlock is not to be told yet." Mycroft replied. "Bearing in mind the pseudo bond between them and Sherlock's precarious stage of pregnancy we have no other option."  
"The closer we can get Sherlock to delivery before he has to find out he may have to be a single parent, the better." John said directly. "It's going to be enough of a nightmare if happens as it is!"

 

The free clinic was heaving with those in need of help... every chair was taken and the phone was ringing constantly.  
There was a baby who wouldn't stop crying, someone reeked of body odour and the electric storage heating was stuck on high and couldn't be turned down.  
The Omega toilet was blocked and couldn't be used and the Alpha one reeked of air spray and could do with a clean. Alan washed his hands twice case he took germs back to Sherlock....

Sherlock looked pale.... "My back really hurts," he complained for the fourth time.  
Alan adjusted his arm to give the lad a bit more lower back support. "Won't be long love."  
"You said that 45 minutes ago." Sherlock sniped. "I need to use the toilet."  
"Can't you hang on? It's none too clean in there...."  
Sherlock gave Alan his best 'are you a total idiot' glare.... "No I can't _hang on _.... your son is laying on my bladder!"__  
"Right....I'll come with you."Alan stood up to go with Sherlock into the bathroom and several heads turned at the prospect of taking their empty seats like vultures sensing roadkill.  
"It's a toilet, I've been using them by myself since childhood, Alan." Sherlock snapped out of sheer frustration. "Just sit down and don't lose our seats."

Alan reluctantly watched Sherlock close the toilet door and resisted the urge to shoot up out of his chair and hover outside it protectively.  
A few minutes later a visibly paler Sherlock was back. "Ok that was gross."  
Alan grinned. "Don't say I didn't warn you."  
"Statistically the cubicle nearest the door has fewer germs.... so I went for that one." Sherlock said as he shrugged back under Alan's arm.  
"That the one with the floating turd that wouldn't flush?" Alan said.  
"Ugh .... don't remind me." Sherlock said weakly and pushed his nose into the skin of Alan's neck to breathe in something good.  
"William and Alan..... Mr Hardcock will see you now. Room 2 please!" A woman's voice called out.....

"Sherlock..... Alan..... Good to see you again. Sorry about the wait today, we're short staffed so the agency had to send us someone to 'man' reception .... or should I say 'woman' it!"" Rob's smile was warm and friendly.  
Sherlock was busy itemising everything he could interpret from the other Omega's appearance, making sure everything was as expected, before he could relax.... by the time he'd finished Alan was already talking about the weather.

"So....how did you both find the Soul Gaze exercise?" Rob asked comfortably as he settled back in his chair.When neither answered he gave the conversation the necessary prompt.... "Alan... how's it worked .... or failed.... from your perspective?"  
"Hmmm," Alan said awkwardly. "It's been ....good...."  
"You managed to fit doing it into your day without too many difficulties?" Rob asked.  
Sherlock smirked.... they certainly had.....  
"Aye ... like I say .... it's been.... good...." Alan dodged the bullet , hoping Rob would move on. Not once had they managed the bloody exercise without having sex mid way through.....  
Rob gave Alan a shrewd glance..... "Any issues come up between you both while you tried it?"  
Could say that! Riddick looked to Sherlock to see if the Omega planned on saying anything about what they'd been doing, only to find himself facing Sherlock's best 'wide eyed and innocent' face. Ruddy Heck, he was on his own here! 

"Sherlock.... how did you find the exercise?" Rob asked.  
"Um.... I found it interesting....Very interesting." Sherlock went for vagueness .  
"You didn't find maintaining eye contact difficult?" Rob was surprised.  
"Um.... a little...." Mainly when Alan was spooning him, cock in hand, Sherlock thought ....he definitely didn't plan on admitting any of that thought process aloud!  
"And did you feel doing the exercise together bought you and Alan closer?" Rob was curious.  
Alan cleared his throat and reached for a glass of water .....  
Sherlock gave a purely angelic smile.... "A lot closer.... every single time we did it."  
Alan had a sudden random attack of spluttered coughing....

Rob Hardcock was nobodies fool, he'd been doing this job for far too long to be taken in.....quick as a flash he changed direction. "So Alan.... Sherlock.... how have you both found the celibacy aspect of this exercise? "  
Alan looked distinctly shamefaced and Sherlock seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the table top....  
"Lets start with a chat about how you could have dealt with any feelings of arousal you may have experienced _during _the exercise shall we?" Rob said patiently.......__

____

"It's bloody impossible...." Riddick didn't hold back. "We've tried it.... can't be done and if you ask me it's a bloody unnatural situation not to touch somebody you're in love with when you're that close to him."  
Rob left that strong statement well alone and tried a new approach.... "The point of the Soul Gaze exercise is to remove any pressures surrounding physical contact or expectations of sexual contact and to refocus on a mental and spirtual connection...."  
Alan sighed heavily. "That's all well and bloody good.... until you've ... a stiff cock with a ruddy mind of its own."  
Sherlock blinked, surprised by Riddick's bluntness and Alan found himself distracted by the length and thickness of Sherlock's lashes as they swept down and up. 

"There are other exercises.... that allow for physical contact to be introduced slowly...." Rob added.  
Sherlock surprised him by speaking up with an opinion first.... "It's not that the Soul Gaze didn't work.... Maybe we didn't follow the rules but it's been ...good " He gave Alan a nudge in the ribs so the Alpha would take over....  
"Huh?... Oh!.... it's been.... things have been...." Alan gave up trying to cover up his brief inattention ...."Things in bed , do you mean?"  
Sherlock gave him an exasperated look that clearly said 'what else' would we be talking about.  
Alan rushed to answer...."Sex.... it's been better than just good ...it's been.... fun...."

"Fun sounds positive...." Rob said. "Would you agree with Alan about that, Sherlock? Has sex been more lighthearted for you?"  
Sherlock blushed..... " I.... like it..." he said and he sounded like that truth still surprised him.  
"Have you shared that with Alan, Sherlock? That you've enjoyed the sexual relationship between you both over this last week?"  
Sherlock was now a bright, scalded pink.... " I think he knows that, " he admitted , remembering tugging Alan back into the bedroom only that morning....  
Alan was grinning ear to ear at Sherlock's embarassed state.... "It's still nice to hear you say , lad.... even if I'd guessed already."

"Is there anything you like to say to Sherlock about the sexual contact between you both, Alan?" Rob could sense there was. "Aye....things in bed...between us.... this week.... it's been less tense...we've been laughing more ....and....Sherlock taking the lead ....it's taken a lot of pressure off....knowing he was into it....into me." Alan was determined to get the words out.  
" Idiot.... I'm always into you," Sherlock said quietly and leant to kiss Alan's cheek.

"Since the question/answer game has worked well for both of you , would you like to keep that on into next week?"  
"I would."Sherlock gave the fastest answer.  
Alan looked over at Sherlock with a smile. "Aye, me too."  
"I think we should still aim to keep all questions non sexual for now...." Rob made the suggestion.  
"I like it as it is... just about us." Sherlock admitted.  
" Yeah I'd agree with you on that, love." Alan added. "Talking about .... bedroom stuff .... I never found that part of it easy. "  
"Is a whole lot less fun talking about it than doing it ...." Sherlock said shyly.  
Riddick gave him a smile."Aye... what the lad said, I'd agree with that."

"As a society that's the more acceptable attitude..." Rob agreed. "Sexual desire is still seen as a taboo area.... it shouldn't be, we all do have sexual relationships and our own needs.... yet we'd rather discuss everything in life except our own sexuality, even when we decide to form a bond."  
Alan laughed.... "My mum would have scrubbed your mouth out with carbolic soap just for saying the sex word."  
"I never talked about it with Mycroft.... well.... you've both met my brother...." Sherlock clearly felt that was explanation enough.  
Riddick found himself laughing alongside Rob.... "I'd take the carbolic soap anyday of the week." Alan said honestly.

"The exercise I'd like you both to try next is called the Back Massage...." Rob explained. "Again I want you to take time out in a calm space , make sure you aren't interupted...."  
"Chance would be a fine thing...."Alan muttered under his breath.  
"You can be naked if you're both comfortable with that... if not that's fine but you will need to be bare skinned from the waist up.....  
First decide on roles... one person will give the massage, we call that person the Giver.... and one will receive it, that's the Receiver.  
For the first five minutes the Giver gets to massage the Receiver's back in any way you imagine to be pleasurable... the Receiver must stay silent even if the touch isn't what you'd enjoy.... For the Giver the aim is to touch in ways that turn them on."  
"What's the point of that if what I'm doing isn't right for the lad?" Alan interrupted.  
"So both of you learn to separate what type of touch turns you on from what type of touch turns your partner on." Rob explained calmly.  
Sherlock was listening intently.

" In the second part of the massage ... For the next five minutes the Giver gets to touch the Receiver in ways you think will turn the person being massaged on.... the aim is to use all you know about the touch you think the Receiver prefers to make it enjoyable for them.... No talking, keep it all touch based."  
Alan seemed happier with that idea, Rob noticed.  
"The third and final part of the massage also lasts five minutes.... we call it the Moan Groan Game.... If the person being massaged likes the touch they give an exagerated response, really vocalise it...."

"What if I don't like it?" Sherlock was anxious.  
"If you don't enjoy the touch or it's too hard then you can shift your body away enough to show that, without ending the massage or speaking. Again whoever is the Receiver must stay silent and use your body to 'speak' for you.... They should make their postive and negative responses very clear...A good Giver looks for the clues but it is important to show clearly how that touch makes you feel .... be as theatrical as you can. I've had some clients who hiss when a touch is too much and moan when it's enjoyable."  
"I can't do that...." Sherlock was flustered. "Can we do it some other way? Does it have to be moaning?"  
"It would be good if it could be.... It helps to introduce some vocal expression into sexual contact. The Giver needs to learn which touch you enjoy to become a better Giver. That way you both become better communicators and listeners sexually."  
"We'll work something out." Alan suggested. "It'll be ok love."  
"Ok... " Sherlock agreed dubiously. "I'll try it."  


The waiting room was still packed.... Alan and Sherlock waited to make another appointment.  
"Hi and how can I help you?"  
"We need to make an appointment with Rob Hardcock for two weeks from now." Alan was surprised to see a new blonde woman in a bright pink blouse was behind the desk.  
"No problem...." Mary smiled brightly as she bought up their confidential case file on her computer screen....


	51. Inside My Lonely Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a sneak look at Aric Webers own bond with Aprielle.  
> Aric questions Sherlock about his miscarriages, the birth of Aleksander and reveals just how little contact he was allowed with his baby son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning as this update includes talk of miscarriage and underage sexual contact that was clearly rape. Not graphic but still its there so be careful. 
> 
> Mouthing off....shouting abuse at.
> 
> Blue the track is Who I Am by Billy Lockett.

Aric Weber held the phone to his ear .....  
"Hello ....you've reached Aprielle Weber's answer phone. I am busy, busy, busy .... If you are calling to me about a stray cat who needs my help then leave me details, I need details .... If you are Aric, I miss you....kiss, kiss....! If you are a sad hater calling about Aric's case ... save yourself the trouble and crawl back under your rock!"  
Aric cleared his throat before speaking...."Aprielle? Pick up.... Do not bring home another cat, 13 is more than enough...."  
Aprielle answered the call immediately..."Aric! Wait till you see him .... he is splendid , a big maned head like a ginger lion... his eyes green like jade." In the background Aric could hear cars beeping....."Fierce, he spat at me twice."  
Aric knew there was no point in protesting.... He could already hear the low, feral snarl of the tom cat in the background. "Do not get bitten or clawed.... use the gloves."  
"Yes....yes. There was another cat too but she didn't fall for my chicken in the trap.... I set again with tuna.... How is your case? How are you ?Are you coming home for the bank holiday weekend? "  
" Yes, I've booked a late flight for thursday. The case? Hard to tell.... the Legate is a closed book.... This week I apply more pressure....slowly. I cannot push too hard , Sherlock is .... unpredictable."  
"You will coax him Aric....The photos of him with the flowers were front page here. People think he is crazy. I've had a lot of hate calls." There was a loud blare as a truck horn blared ...."He is a cold man, that Magnussen... I bet he has an undersize penis .... compensating , you know....bashing on his Omega to feel like the bigger man!"  
"He's hung well enough, it's his personality that is lacking." Aric's black cab turned into the Bond Court.... "I have to go..... Keep the new cat confined to the conservatory..... I do not want cat shit on the silk wallpaper again...."  
"Yes.... Yes... But I'm thinking the spare bedroom for him... a little comfort will bring him around sooner.... I'll give him that old dressing gown of yours so he will know your scent.... he must get to know his new Papa when you come home .... "  
"Of course....Aprielle , I'm at the Court now.... I have to go...."  
"So fast? I barely had time to say a word! .... Aric.... mwah! Have good day!"  
"Ya...You also, Aprielle "..... Aric chose a time when the black cab driver was preoccupied with the difficult turn into the courtyard through the narrow medieval entrance, to respond." Mwah."

Weber was surprised to see Sherlock sitting on the cold stone steps, shoulders hunched against the cold as the damp wind stirred the savagely short layers of his hair. Alan Riddick had sat himself down next to Sherlock , his broad back acting as a surprisingly effective human barricade , shielding the lad from the wind and the unfriendly stares alike.  
Aric had learned to read his client well....the Omega was pale, his inky eyes almost navy blue in his ethereal , angular face.... Sherlock didn't want to be here today. There was a weary unhappy resignation in the youth's face.

Mycroft Holmes looked openly concerned as the wind gusted strongly and Sherlock shivered uncontrollably. "Take my scarf, Sherlock."  
It was a mark of how cold Sherlock was that he accepted the soft blue cashmere without argument, looping it around his own neck and tugging it up about his chin.  
"Sod this." Alan cursed. "Why are they hanging about when we could all be inside in the warm? They've had their fun mouthing off at the lad already so now what's the bloody hold up?"  
"To prove a point... because he can keep us waiting if it's what he wants." Sherlock said with bleak certainty."My back really hurts ."  
"Still?" Alan looked uneasy.  
"It's cold. This coat's not warm enough." Sherlock sounded miserable.  
Didn't seem right.... "You want to put mine round you?" Alan made the offer despite the cold and when Sherlock nodded, Riddick had his thickly padded jacket off and draped round the Omega's thin shoulders in seconds.  
Sherlock sighed, desperate to lean into Alan and take comfort and knowing he couldn't do that here where it would be seen.......

The court room was packed on the Alpha side. Standing room only....by contrast the Omega side lay unused and empty past the first row.  
The Legate was watching Sherlock closely as the Omega took his seat on the left hand side of the Court and poured himself a glass of water despite the constant shivering running through his thin frame. Upon the Legate's beckoning the court usher stepped forward and leant his ear foward diplomatically...."Close and bar the doors." the Legate gave clear instructions.  
"It's a little early your Honour..." normally the wide wooden doors that led to the cold, draughty corridors beyond remained open until the first witness was about to take the stand.  
"Even so. Close them now" The Legate waited until his instructions had been followed . "Call your witness to the stand Herr Weber and let's begin shall we...."

"You miscarried for the first time quite soon after being bonded, Sherlock?"  
"Yes, two months after." Sherlock said as little as possible.  
"And how many weeks pregnant were you when you lost that first pregnancy?"  
"I don't know ." Sherlock's reply was short and to the point.  
Aric made a show out of pausing .... "You don't know?"  
"I didn't know I was pregnant." Sherlock shifted in his chair.  
"Had you experienced no signs of early pregnancy?" Aric asked mildly.  
"I didn't know what they were." Sherlock sounded ashamed. "I'd been sick several times but I thought it was a stomach bug. I wasn't feeling well."  
"You felt unwell? "  
"A bit , like I was going to get ill. Tired all the time and eating some foods made me throw up."  
"But you didn't recognise those as possible signs of early pregnancy?" Aric waited until Sherlock had agreed he had not , before continuing with a glance at his notes..... "Tiredness, tenderness around the nipples, nausea, headaches, food cravings and of course the lack of a pre heat discharge? Any of those?"  
Sherlock had blushed a deep scarlet... "Tiredness, yes, headaches yes, nausea yes.... but those could be from being ill , so that's all I thought it was."

"And the lack of a monthly pre-heat discharge?" Aric waited.  
"I... I didn't... I bled every week ..." Sherlock took a gulp of water.  
"Your heat cycle included a heat bleed?" Aric asked for more clarity.  
"Sex.... with Charles .... in a heat or out of it.... I was still bleeding a lot." Sherlock looked down so nobody could meet his eyes. "Dr Hoi told Charles I'd mistaken it for a heat bleed. I heard him say it.."  
"That sounds as though the bleeding you experienced after sexual penetration or knotting was heavy?"  
"I don't know.... What's heavy? I'm not a Doctor....I just thought it was normal." Sherlock took another desparate sip of water. "I didn't really know anything much."  
"Concerning sexual intercourse with an Alpha or pregnancy?"  
"Both... we hadn't had those classes at school yet.... "  
"Are you referring to sex education classes?"  
"Yes. Those classes didn't start in my year."

Aric made it sound as though he was still working out the timeline.... " A year before Sex Ed classes were scheduled to begin you already found yourself bonded , mated and pregnant? Would it be fair for me to assume that contraception had not been discussed either?"  
"No we hadn't learnt about anything like that ...it was an all Omega school so we were still learning about photosynthesis in plants ....nothing academically challenging, all very basic stuff . I did way more advanced work at home with the equipment Mycroft bought me. When I changed schools, after I was bonded, I did entrance tests and got moved up two years academically .... I was there a whole school year before we started learning about Alpha/Omega sexual relationships."  
"At this stage you are at Marlow School....a mixed boarding school? The other boys in your class were 17/18 and you were what age, Sherlock?"  
" Yes I was at Marlow. I was 15 when we had the first Sex Ed classes."  
Aric signed heavily at the lunacy of lessons in what to expect sexually within a bond being given so late given Sherlock's bonded status and Sherlock's head jerked up, misunderstanding and obviously afraid he'd done something wrong.....

"The first sign you were miscarrying Sherlock... what was that?"  
"Cramps, they really hurt.... the bleeding came later...."  
"And was a doctor called?"  
"Dr Hoi. " Sherlock said miserably.  
"And he told you that you were miscarrying?"  
"No."  
"No? .... Then how did you find out, were you taken to hospital?" Aric was surprised by the negative answer.  
" No.... Dr Hoi had everything he needed there." Sherlock gulped at his water. "He said nothing to me. Nobody actually told me I'd been pregnant before Charles did. "  
Aric paused.... "Your Alpha chose to tell you himself?"  
Sherlock stared up at Weber with a confrontational look on his face. "That makes it sound like something caring.... it wasn't. Dr Hoi never told me , I found out from Charles.... that's all."  
Weber waited for Sherlock to continue until it was clear the Omega didn't intend on saying more. "How did Charles Magnussen inform you that you'd been pregnant and that pregnancy was now over, Sherlock?"  
"He caught me by the arms.... He said he'd put a healthy Alpha son in me and my role had merely been to carry the child to full term.... which I'd failed to do." Sherlock's voice was a flat montone, weirdly devoid of emotion. "He said ...we'd have to try again at my next heat and this time I should hope to do better."  
"Better....? You'd suffered a miscarriage at a very young age and that was the response? As if the loss was somehow your fault?"  
"Objection, Legate! Mr Magnussen had just learned his child had been lost, his reaction was admitedly lacking in some degree of empathy , but he had suffered his own loss of an undoubtedly longed for heir!"  
"Objection upheld.... Carry on Herr Weber."

Aric shrugged the set back to his questioning off.... "How soon after the miscarriage did sexual relations between you both begin again?"  
Sherlock took a sharp breath in and balked at answering. " Why does that matter?"  
The Legate's head turned.... "Answer the question, Sherlock."  
"But it's a pointless question.... How does it even matter?"  
The Legate's voice was stern.... "You will answer any and all questions and co-operate fully or be held in contempt.... Herr Weber you may have a moment to address your client as to his responsibities as a legal witness before we continue."  
Mycroft watched anxiously as Aric lowered his head to Sherlock and spoke to the Omega in a lowered voice.....

"How soon after the loss of this first pregancy did the sexual relationship between yourself and Charles Magnussen recomence?" Aric asked for the second time  
Sherlock glared at Weber as though he hated him.... "Orally.... me doing that for him, within a week...... full sex , six weeks."  
"Charles asked you to perform oral sex upon him within a week of the miscarriage?" Weber allowed his incredulity to colour his voice.  
Sherlock felt the silent fixed attention of Magnussen as a palpable weight , pressing him back into his chair. "He didn't ask anything....why would he ask, it's not as though I could say no." Sherlock answered with a savage , brittle flippancy. "He got a handful of my hair, unzipped, took out his cock and pushed it at my mouth. It was self explanatory.... no need for words....."  
The Legate bought down the gavel repeatedly as the Alpha side of the Court erupted.

"The second miscarriage , Sherlock.... that occurred in Denmark at Apple Dore also?" Aric glanced up as he asked the question.  
" Yes. In Charles bathroom."  
"And did you call for assistance?"  
Sherlock shook his head. "No. Charles did that."  
"But you had realised you were pregnant?"  
"No...."  
"Though you'd been pregnant once before , you still missed the early signs?" Aric moved closer, hoping to encourage and support Sherlock into giving more than a bare few words as his answer.  
"Throwing up was the only early sign and I felt terrible anyway... so, no."  
"You were unwell?"  
Sherlock hesitated....  
"Speak up, boy!" Mungo corrected him. " Stop your games .Remember where you are !"  
"We'd had sex in the shower.... I had pain and bled after that. It happened fast." Sherlock avoided meeting Aric's gaze as he spoke.

"That sexual encounter that took place in the shower... was it usual in nature Sherlock?" Aric leafed through his papers as he asked his question.  
"Define usual?" Sherlock said.  
Aric looked up .... "Consensual, painfree, mutually pleasurable to some degree, loving...."  
Sherlock's voice shook.... "He pushed me up against the tiled wall and had hold of my neck over the bite..... it hurt.... he was taller than me and ... deeper than I could take.... He came , I didn't.... He kept hitting me into my lower back to get me to stand there exactly how he wanted.... I was saying sorry, I don't even know why I did that.... he's the one who was hurting me."  
"That sounds more like a description of rape than consensual sex within a bond...." Weber's comment hung in the air and Milne was immediately on his feet, roaring out his objections..... as the shouting died down the lonely sound of Sherlock's bitter, tearful laughter filled the courtroom.

Aric handed Sherlock a box of tissues and spoke to the Omega privately in a hushed tone while allowing time for him to compose himself. "I've distressed you with this line of questioning and I'm sorry that is necessary."  
"It's not your fault. I don't like remembering." Sherlock's voice was muted.  
"It's understandable." Aric said kindly before stepping away.

"The fourth miscarriage, Sherlock.... you attended hospital on that occasion?"  
"Yes."  
"And did you know that you were pregnant this time?"  
"Yes... I'd had no heat , I'd been throwing up so badly I'd been on a drip and I was further along when it happened. 10 weeks."  
"And how old were you Sherlock?"  
"15."  
"Four miscarriages by the time you were 15?"  
"Yes."  
"You were alone when it happened?"  
"Yes...it was late at night, Charles had gone to his own bed."  
"Did you call for help?"  
Sherlock locked eyes with Alan.... "No but they came anyway."  
" They? Magnussen's team of in house body guards? How did they see what was happening?"  
"There were cameras in my rooms. All over my rooms. They watched me 24 hours a day.."  
"Yet by the time assistance came your blood loss was severe enough to merit being taken into hospital?"  
"Yes..... "  
" In fact you required emergency surgery?"  
"Yes."  
"You must have been in significant pain and distress? How did the miscarriage go unseen for so long when there were surveillance cameras inside your rooms?" Weber asked.  
"I hid... under the blankets for as long as I could stand it." Sherlock's face was ashen.  
"You hid? Instead of calling for medical aid? In severe pain and bleeding heavily? You hid?"  
"I wanted to wait and be sure I'd lose the pregnancy. " Sherlock admitted shockingly.

"Silence ..... silence in Court!" The hammering of the gavel echoed loudly around the courtroom.  
"You wanted to miscarry?" Aric showed no judgement.  
" No but I didn't want a baby." Sherlock wouldn't raise his eyes. "I hated my life there. I didn't see the point of bringing a baby into that situation when it could only ever be unhappy."  
" As Charles Magnussen's son and heir any Alpha boy born would have every advantage in life in terms of social power and money." Aric reminded Sherlock.  
"So?" Sherlock said resentfully. "It was like living in a prison, locked doors and camera watching me all the time.... At least in prison you get visits from family...."  
"You had a new family and home boy! A bondmate! To claim otherwise is an insult." Mungo interrupted.  
"Charles wasn't anything like family, Apple Dore was never home.... and I'm not a boy... I'm 20!" Sherlock lost his temper in a sudden bright flare. "I _was _a boy then but Charles saw to the end of that.... I felt like an old man...."__  
Milne's shouting drowned the rest of Sherlock's angry words out.  
"Strike that from Court records!" The Legate demanded.

____

"You conceived again and this time your son, Aleksander was the result? A healthy Alpha son. How old were you at his birth Sherlock?"  
"Still 15...closer to 16." Sherlock sounded on the verge of tears.  
"You suffered your fair share of complications throughout the pregnancy?"  
" Vomiting.... I needed a drip to dehydrate me.... anaemia, I had vitamin and iron injections and then a red blood cell tranfusion..... I felt really tired, every day, even getting up felt like too much effort. I stayed in bed most of the day. Dr Hoi said I was depressed."  
"You saw a specialist throughout the pregnancy?"  
"Dr Hoi daily and Dr Hussein Dervish from St Jude's weekly."  
"There were some issues with the baby's own health?"  
"Poor growth... they induced birth early at 28 weeks when it stopped completely."

"How much knowledge did you have of childbirth, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock shrugged.... "I didn't know anything about labour , I knew, technically, how birth would happen.... I didn't know you would be in labour hours before you'd have the baby. In movies .... it was always over fast."  
Aric let the boy's naïve immaturity at that stage of his life speak for itself.... "How was labour induced, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock made an involuntary wincing movement at the recollection. "They used a pessary to soften the cervix... I had two lots of those before it started doing anything.... Then after two hours they broke the waters round the baby so the pains came faster then. They use a long plastic hook thing to do that.."  
"And were all these procedures what you'd been told to expect?"  
"I hadn't any expectations. I thought it wouldn't be very nice and it wasn't. I wasn't really told how it was going to happen. The contractions were worse than I thought.... I thought it'd be like bad heat cramps but it was much worse than that."  
"Were you offered any pain relief? First labour can be more painful, I believe."  
"Charles said I could have gas and air, nothing else.... You breathe it in when the pain starts to build until it dies away. It's useless but I still didn't want to let it go. They wanted me to stop using it at the end but I wouldn't let go.... so I still had the mouthpiece but they'd turned off the gas."  
"The birth itself, Sherlock....?"  
"I don't remember much.... I was terrified.... if I could have got up I would have run out of there. I told Dr Dervish to get the baby out .... I know that... he said I had to do that for myself. He laughed, like I'd made a really funny joke. I was too scared to push, they kept telling me I had to stop fighting it happening.... my body did it all by itself in the end."

"In all this time Sherlock, did Charles support you in any way, verbally or physically?"  
"Objection.... the Omega was in the care of a highly qualified medical team.... what could Charles Magnussen realistically contribute without getting in their way?"  
"Sustained... redirect Herr Weber." The Legate watched Sherlock's hands closely.

"When the baby was born Sherlock did he require immediate medical attention?"  
"Yes.... suction so he could breathe, a nasal tube as well. He was taken to the SCBU for a week in an incubator." Sherlock answered instantly.  
"You remember all that, despite the trauma of the birth?" Aric pointed out that simple truth. "Would I be right to say he required medical attention for some minutes?"  
"Seventeen minutes. "  
Mycroft eyes were glued to his brother.... "Oh Sherlock...."  
"You recall an exact time despite just having given birth or did you ask someone for details afterwards?"  
"There was a clock on the wall... I never asked anyone anything , I timed it for myself."  
Good boy! Aric let the Omega's concern for his newly born son sink in... 

"Did you hold the baby first Sherlock?"  
"No... Charles did and then I asked if I could see him and the nurse asked if I was allowed...."  
"If you _were _allowed.... to hold your own son, whom you had just given birth too?" Weber was openly incredulous....__  
Sherlock saw nothing wrong in what he had said .... anxious only to answer and be done.... "Yes she asked and Charles gave permission but .... I told her no when she asked if I'd hold him...."  
"You didn't want to hold your son? Can I ask why?" Weber asked the question with kindness.  
Sherlock drew in a ragged breath... "Everything felt wrong.... felt too much.... "  
"You were overwhelmed?"  
Sherlock nodded instead of replying but the Legate let it go unremarked.

" I see ....so , when was the first time you held baby Aleksander, Sherlock?"  
" Four hours later... they bought me into the SCBU after I'd had a shower, a cup of tea and some rest , for me to try and feed him."  
"And that was the first real opportunity for mother/son bonding time you had with him?"  
Sherlock held onto the seat of his chair with both hands to keep himself in place as his fingers stimmed frantically against the wood. "It wasn't like that. A nurse pulled my robe open , pinched my nipple and shoved the baby's mouth at it.... It was horrendous. They held him , not me, so it felt really awkward. He kept stopping feeding and falling asleep so they'd tickle his feet or blow in his face to make him wake back up, he'd cry and drink more. By week two I was so sore I dreaded feeding times... I used to stare out the window, cry and imagine I was anywhere else."  
Aric stood quietly .... "Yet you persevered and fed the baby for 6 weeks, Sherlock?"  
"I had no choice." Sherlock admitted. "But it had got easier by week three , a nurse got me some cream without telling anyone and that helped it stop hurting so much and Aleksander wanted to feed. He was gaining weight. They were letting me hold him myself , just for the feeds and he'd hung onto my thumb and kept opening his eyes.... " Sherlock swiped at his eyes frustratedly. "Sorry.... it's been a long day.....Outside of feeding him I never got a chance to see him."  
"You never saw him?"  
"He was in the nursery at the hospital, except for feeding. At home he had a team of maternity nurses. I wasn't allowed to go downstairs to the nursery wing to see him unless Charles was going there with me."

"You weren't allowed to visit your own newborn son by yourself?"  
"I was just the wetnurse... produce the milk.... feed the baby.... repeat ad infinitum."  
"But this was your own son...."  
"It didn't feel like that." Sherlock was white as a sheet. "I wasn't sure what I felt but it didn't feel much like maternal love. He was so small it scared me to hold him in case I did anything wrong and they watched me all the time like I was a risk to him, soon as he finished drinking they took him away again. After six weeks they said he could take formula milk so they stopped bringing him into see me at all and bound my chest so the milk dried up. I didn't see Aleksander then until we came back from England months later, he looked like a whole different baby...not like the baby I'd fed. He looked like a stranger's baby."

Weber had been waiting for this opportunity ever since that first conversation in his office...." Why was six weeks chosen as the deadline that you feeding the baby should end by? Was it because of this trip?"  
Sherlock stared out at the lawyer as though he was unbelievably stupid. "No. Six weeks is when the Doctor said it was ok to have penetrative sex with me again..if you aren't feeding that's when you have the first heat cycle after having a baby, if you're feeding a baby you have no heats."  
Aric took a moment, incredulous.... "Let me be sure I have understood the situation correctly..... your son was removed from you and feeding stopped in order that Charles Magnussen could recommence having a full sexual relationship with you that would include heat sex?"  
"Objection!" Milne stood and shouted the word out amid a rising clamour of Alpha dissent.  
"Objection to a simple unpalatable truth will not make it any less true!" Weber disagreed with the crowd vociferously, his loud voice ringing out with power."Charles Magnussen prioritsed his own sexual desires ahead of the maternal bonding and emotional needs of both his son and his own Omega! It could not be any clearer!"  
The Legate hammered the Alpha side of his court into an uneasy silence..... eventually.... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see the rescued cats as being surrogate children for Aprielle and Aric. In my head they have had their own infertility issues and the cats are the family they both need.


	52. Weighed In The Scales of Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary moves in on John .  
> Sherlock is cross examined in a deeply hostile court room.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is updating early this week because we are heading up to Yorkshire for the weekend on Friday and I've promised not to do any writing while we are there... Instead we will be taste testing various wedding cakes ( yum ) and will probably be dragged to yet another wedding fair to look at table top florals....  
> Adam will nod as if he likes everything he is shown but say nothing, his mum will try and fail to get an opinion and finally give up on him and I will end up commenting for both of us while he winks and sneaks off towards the food testing stands .....
> 
> Ta for the track rec. Blue....Life Of Mars by Aurora.

John leant on the lift call button and kept his finger down. "For pity's sake ...come _on _you useless machine!"__  
"Not having a good day , John?"  
The light girly voice came from behind him... John resisted the urge to say, 'nope but why not state the obvious' and turned around reluctantly..... "Hey, Mary...."  
"Weather's awful isn't it? So cold!" Mary's bobble hat and the fake fur trim around her hood were clashing garish shades and she held a large box of cakes from Greggs bakery in her hands. "It's my turn to pick the cakes , we all need that sugar rush to get us through the day," she explained.  
John gave a flat smile and was relieved when the pinging noise behind him told him the lift was finally there.

"Did Sonia ask you along to her new flat warming yet? " Mary chirruped brightly as she walked into the lift and stood facing John so close her box of cakes almost poked him in the belly.  
"No... I'll probably have to give it a miss anyway." John had no intention of going along to any party where he'd had a one night stand with 5 out of the 12 people invited and then 'forgotten' to call them.

"Oh that's a shame!" Mary sounded sincere. "I don't think I'll be going. I'm flying out for the bank holiday so I'm grabbing any extra hours going. I've been doing some free clinic hours so I'm a bit short of cash ...."  
John was surprised.... "I work in a free clinic myself.... weekends."  
"Oh wow! Small world..... Being 100% honest, I was shocked when I first went in , the equipment was so dated , I mean a lot of it we don't even use anymore... but once you get used to that ....well, the people are amazing, real hearts of gold. It's good to give back. You know?"  
"Yeah, I know." John gave Mary a second glance, this was unexpected.

" I should say sorry to you first.... I meant to give you a call ....." he began awkwardly.  
Mary laid a white gloved hand on John's arm...."Don't be silly John.... we're both adults here.... I had a lot of fun.... no strings attached was fine with me , like I said when you asked me...."  
Did I? John couldn't remember a thing about it.... but thank God Mary wasn't the bunny boiler type..... He made his mind up fast "Want to grab a tea with me before shift starts?"  
Mary smiled. "That would be great John ... we can steal a cake or two from the box, I've got some spares."  
"Good.... that's good." John held the door to the staff room open. "So where are you heading this bank holiday then?"  
Mary's smile showed a lot of regularly sized white teeth.... "Germany." She said. " I'm really looking forward to it. I've a small bit of work to get done , then the whole weekend will be mine to kick back and just enjoy the after glow of a job well done..."  
"Sounds great." John helped himself to a iced bun.

"Oh I think so too.... Once I blow the cobwebs away with this trip I'll be doing a lot more of the same, hopefully..... I'm a little out of practice and it's been a while... but once I set my sights on a target I never miss." Mary's eyes were disturbingly empty as she looked down and began rumaging through her handbag..... her pink painted finger tips brushed the cold metal of her gun in its holster at its bottom before she pulled out a sachet of sugar substitute and tipped it into her tea.  
"You don't take sugar?" John said to make conversation.  
" I'm sweet enough already...." Mary said and pulled a rueful face. "Was that too cheesey? It felt it!"  
John laughed .... "I could have made a round of sandwiches to go with those cakes" he said with a cheeky smile.... and Mary made sure she trilled with laughter like he'd said the funniest thing in the world......

"Sherlock..... Sherlock..... Sherlock.... " Mr Milne transformed Sherlock's name into a series of disapproving but vaguely amused sounds. "What a morning! _What _a narration! Miscarriage after miscarriage, misery after misery.... it reminded me of a Greek tragedy .... Poor Charles was left _quite _speechless to see himself cast in such a relentlessly villanous role."____  
"Objection! Belittling the witness!" Aric hammered both his hands down flat on the table he'd been sat behind and got to his feet with surprising agility for a heavy set man. "The facts spoke for themselves in ways only the truth can!"  
"Objection upheld!" The Legate shook his head..... "Less of the showman if you please Mr Milne, this is a court of law not a West End stage."

 _ ___  
Milne acknowledged the Legate's authority with a respectful nod and took a moment."Let us begin with your first miscarriage shall we and try to establish the alternative reality behind what happened." He glanced down at the notes he had made."You told the Court that your first miscarriage happened two months after you were first bonded and mated by your Alpha?"  
"Yes." Sherlock gave the least expansive answer he could make by way of a deliberate protest.  
Milne smiled condescendingly. "Such a rapid conception would appear to suggest your body was sexually mature enough to be mated after all... would it not Sherlock?"  
"I wouldn't know.... I'm not medically qualified to comment." Sherlock said carefully. "You'd do better to ask a Doctor."  
"Oh I have Sherlock. Believe me , I have medical experts a plenty lined up to testify as to your reproductive health.... or lack of it." There was a ripple of low conversation about the court.  
"Good for you." Sherlock said. "We have experts on our side too."

"You've told the court that you 'didn't know you were pregnant'....is that correct?"  
"Yes."  
"You recognised none of the early physical signs?"  
"I already said. No, I didn't."  
"So would it be fair to say that you made no adjustments to your own behaviour or diet during those early days of pregnancy? "  
"Well I didn't know I was pregnant...." Sherlock repeated.

"So.... you'd taken no folic acid to prevent spina bifida?"  
"No."  
"No pre- pregnancy multi vitamins?"  
"No."  
"Had you made any dietary changes? Stopped eating any foods?"  
" No. I wasn't eating much.... the sickness made it hard to want to eat." Sherlock admitted.  
"So it could be fair to say that nutritionally your diet may have been lacking at that time?"  
"Maybe. " Sherlock said warily.

"Would you say you are aware of the importance of healthy, balanced nutrition in early pregnancy?"  
"Then? No. I was 14... so no. Now? Yes."  
"At this stage in your life, would you say you are now fully aware of the many ways in which a poor diet at that time may have had an impact upon the formation and growth of the fetus in your womb?" Milne waited for the reply ......  
" I don't know everything but, I know diet is important."  
Riddick knew that to be true... Sherlock was still obsessing guiltily over eating one packet of peanuts and the possibilty he'd sensitised Neep to nuts before the baby had even been born.

"Did you drink any alcohol at this time?"  
"A few times.... I'd take a glass of cognac. I just thought ... if I was a bit drunk it'd help."  
"Was Charles aware you did this?"  
"No."  
" You've said you felt alcohol may help? In which way?"  
"Make it easier to be less tense.... for my body to be less tense.... Sexually." Sherlock said awkwardly.  
"You know now that alcohol shouldn't be drunk during pregnancy?"  
"Yes." Sherlock's voice was sad.  
"Yet you drank it then?"  
"Yes... but I didn't know then about the baby."

"Did you smoke ? Remember you are under oath."  
"Yes.... not during the pregnancy.... I wasn't smoking when I was 14."  
"At what age did you start smoking?"  
"At 15. At school."  
"And is smoking damaging to an unborn child?"  
"Yes.... but I didn't know I was pregnant." Sherlock was rattled.  
"Theoretically would you agree that your own actions may have caused problems with the developing fetus at such an early and fragile stage of gestation?" Milne waited for the answer.  
"I can't know for sure." Sherlock spoke slowly .... "but neither can you. You have no evidence to prove what you're saying either. I don't know why that first miscarriage happened, it just did."  
The Legate kept an evaluative eye on Sherlock as the Omega took yet another gulp of water. 

"You also mentioned ' feeling ill'? Would you describe again your symptoms"  
" I was getting sick around food or even the smell of food , I was tired and I had headaches." Sherlock replied.  
"And you yourself had thought these symptoms meant you were unwell? What did you suspect could be wrong with you?"  
"I thought maybe I had a virus." Sherlock answered.  
"Do you think it possible your initial guess was in fact accurate and you were actually unwell during those formative days of pregnancy?"  
Sherlock got as far as opening his mouth to reply when Weber roared over him..... "Objection....pure speculation! My learned colleague knows full well it is impossible to know if that was indeed the case when so many years have gone by."  
"Objection upheld."The Legate agreed. "Move on from this line of questioning , Mr Milne." 

"Let's talk about your another one of your many miscarriages , Sherlock.... The one that you claim took place following sexual intercourse with Charles Magnussen in the shower."  
"Ok...."  
"What time of day was this?"  
"Morning." Sherlock said.  
"You were sharing a shower?"  
"No.... I was showering.... Charles came in."  
" You were taking an early morning shower?"  
"Yes."  
"And did you normally rise before Charles to shower?"  
"No... I felt dirty. I wanted to wash."  
Milne raised his brows. "You'd spent the night sleeping in Charles bed with him?"  
"Yes."  
"And had you had sexual intercourse during the night?"  
"Yes."  
"Anal sex?"  
"Yes." Sherlock was very pale.

"The anal sex that took place between you both in the shower.... Was that the first time you'd had anal sex in a standing postion?"  
" Yes......" Sherlock's voice was faint.  
"Are you claiming you found that new position uncomfortable or are you claiming it caused you actual pain?"  
"I'm not _claiming _anything." Sherlock looked away towards the barred doors of the court..... "It hurt."__  
"Had you communicated that you were in some discomfort to your Alpha?"  
"I think so...." Sherlock shifted in his seat.  
"You 'think so'....?" Milne queried the Omega's answer."Did you say clearly at any stage....'please stop , this position is just a little too uncomfortable can we try another way'?"  
Sherlock gulped at the water. "It was more than just uncomfortable. It hurt. I would have said something."  
"So you've claimed...but you still seem unsure."

Milne spoke again before the Omega could answer. "Unless Charles was a mind reader he really had no way of knowing how you felt internally unless you told him? So was it yes or no , Sherlock? Did you tell Charles clearly and if so what words did you use?" Milne gave Sherlock a patronising smile before he turned away....  
Sherlock's voice came from behind him. "He wouldn't have cared and he definately wouldn't have stopped doing it even if I'd said anything!"  
Milne ignored that reply. "Is that a yes or no, Sherlock? Yes , you remember that you told him clearly or no you don't recall?"  
Sherlock hesitated.... " I can't be sure...."  
"You don't remember telling him?.... I see. " Milne turned away to face Charles with a smile and went on the attack....

"This sexual postion was new to you... had Charles told you how he needed you to stand?"  
Sherlock was deathly pale. "Yes."  
"And did you do as you'd been told by your Alpha?"  
"I tried." Sherlock was shaking visibly.  
"Yet we will hear Charles Magnussen testify that you failed to remain in position for him and that in fact, partway through the sexual act , you endangered yourself and risked physical injury to you both by attempting to pull away."  
Sherlock made no move to reply, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  
"Answer the question , boy!" Mungo growled impatiently.  
" How? It wasn't a question.... there wasn't an actual question for me to answer.... so I can't answer one." Sherlock said tightly.  
The third Judge, Bunty, laughed. "Damn it! The Holmes boy is right , Mungo. There was no question. None at all."  
Mycroft smiled right across the court at his brother, savouring that small victory for Holmesian logic. 

Milne's own smile was more of a rictus, his eyes cold. "I shall be sure each question is tranparently clear from now on....Did Charles Magnussen need to correct your stance during the sexual encounter?"  
"Yes."  
"And did he need to repeat his instructions more than once?"  
"Yes."  
"And did you remain as he instructed on the second reprimand?"  
"No."  
"How many times did Charles have reason to correct your stance to enable sex to continue safely?"  
"I don't remember." Sherlock said dully.  
"Mr Magnussen will testify it was more than six times, Legate." Milne said. "Sherlock... Sherlock .... Sherlock..... in fact it was your own rebellious and repeated refusal to co-operate as instructed that led to your Alpha striking you ... was it not?"  
"Objection... Legate .... speculation! Only Charles Magnussen himself can truly know what motivated any of his acts of physical violence against a young teenage boy!" Weber was on his feet instantly.  
"Objection upheld.... move on Mr Milne. I've heard enough of that line of questioning. Move on to something more solid."

"In yet another of your miscarriages Sherlock.... you' laid the blame for that squarely at the feet of your Alpha.... in fact you told the ER Doctor that the miscarriage was caused by ... and I'll quote your own words here, as recorded in your own medical notes from St Judes which form exhibit 4.... 'rough' sexual contact between you and Charles following dinner?"  
"Yes."  
"But upon examination you were found to have suffered a spontaneous natural miscarriage and treated accordingly?"  
"Yes."  
"Removing the tragedy of you suffering yet another miscarriage from the equation.... did this 'rough' sexual encounter leave you needing the attention of a Doctor for sexual injuries you'd substained during it?"  
"No."  
"No? No internal damage? No medical treatment was needed or given outside of that your miscarriage made necessary was it? A surgical procedure to remove retained tissue and a blood transfusion.... that the sole treatment needed , wasn't it Sherlock?" 

In fact we will produce evidence for the Court that proves that the Doctor who attended you felt the person who should be blamed was... you, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock's mouth twisted.  
"And why were the medical team of that opinion?"  
Sherlock was colourless. "I'd pulled away."  
"You tried to avoid penetration?"  
Sherlock shook his head miserably."I tried to push back when he pushed me over the table. He had me pushed up against the wood so hard it was hurting me..."  
The Legate authoritative voice cut in before Mr Milne could speak. "One moment Mr Milne... Sherlock, can you be more expansive? What pain were you in?"  
"The edge of the table was pressing in hard above my.... groin. There was a lot of pressure."  
"I see. Thank you for explaining more fully, Sherlock." the Legate said. "Move on with the next question Mr Milne."

"This was your third pregnancy Sherlock, you've said you knew that you were pregnant?"  
"Yes. I knew."  
"The pregnancy had reached 10 weeks gestation?"  
"Yes."  
"Had you been receiving ante natal care?"  
"Yes."  
"Dr Hoi and Dr Hussein Dervish .... you were under the care of both Doctors?"  
"Yes."  
"And had there been any concerns with the viability of this pregnancy that you were aware of?"  
"No...." Sherlock stopped. " I mean...Yes.... there had been."  
Aric Weber looked surprised and got quickly to his feet. "May I have a moment to confer with my client Legate , this is new information of which I was previously unaware."  
"You may.... Step aside if you would please, Mr Milne." 

Aric's wide back shielded Sherlock from view. "Explain. Quickly and in full."  
"Dr Hoi .... I saw him every week .... he said my cervix wasn't fully closed. He said he could still push a finger tip into it."  
Aric took a deep breath. "And did he attempt that? During the 10 weeks of this pregnancy did he attempt that?"  
"He always did that. Every heat he'd do that.... He did it the morning of the day I miscarried. I had cramps after...Alan bought me a hot water bottle to help." Was the shocking reply.  
Aric Weber stood up, his face set hard. "May I approach the chair, Legate?"  
"You may. Mr Milne , join us please."  
" I request an adjournment to prepare for the inclusion of new evidence which has only recently come to light, Legate."  
"Objection.... Legate , my cross examination is in full flow and to give Mr Weber such an advantage now would be unprecedented..."  
The Legate took a moment. "I'll allow you time at the end of session, Herr Weber."

"Health concerns aside.... this time you've reached 10 weeks gestation?"  
"Yes"  
"You told my learned colleague that you began bleeding in the middle of the night an hour after going to your rooms?"  
"Yes."  
"And you've admitted you 'hid' to avoid help being sent or medical attention being given?"  
"Yes."  
"You've further admitted you did this in the hope that a miscarriage would become inevitable?"  
"Yes." Sherlock's voice was barely audible.  
"But eventually you were seen to be in distress?"  
"Yes."  
"And help was finally summoned?"  
"Yes."  
"How long after the miscarriage began was help sent for?"  
Sherlock thought. "Four hours... maybe a little more or less?"  
"You were in increasing pain during that time?"  
"Yes."  
"And bleeding was becoming heavier?"  
"Yes."  
"Yet despite the severity and worsening of your situation it took four hours for that to be noticed by anyone?"  
Sherlock stared at Milne. "I hid in the bed , under the blankets. Nobody saw until I stood up."

"Who finally .... after four long hours... arrived in the room to check on you?"  
"Alan.... Alan Riddick." Sherlock looked to Alan as he spoke.  
"And how soon after arriving in your room did Mr Riddick summon help?"  
"Right away."  
"And what help did he send for?"  
"Dr Hoi and then we went to hospital."  
"But by then it was too late and the pregnancy was lost as indeed you'd hoped?"  
"I hadn't hoped for that... not exactly."

"No...? Strange how your actions would seem to indicate that was your aim, Sherlock? You knew what that bleeding and pain signified .... did you not? Yet you failed to act as your own baby was lost? In fact you took deliberate steps to ensure nothing could be done while Alan Riddick, who has since taken such a prominent role in your own life ....watched but apparently failed to see! I put it to you Sherlock that this was a deliberate conspiracy between you both to ensure Charles child did not survive!"

Alan's voice rang out... "I wasn't even on duty for most of that night you tosser.... so get your sodding facts right before you lay the blame for that on me!"  
The packed Alpha side of the court broke out into shouting as the Legate hammered down the gavel hard enough to shatter stone. "Mr Riddick this is a court of law not a common market place. You will remain silent until asked to give evidence and refrain from any such insults or you will be removed from this court to the cells below it!"  
Sherlock sat and said nothing until the noise died down then spoke into the uneasy silence. " If you knew Alan you'd know he'd never be a party to anything that harmed an unborn child. Never. It was all my decision. I could have got help and I didn't...because I thought losing the baby was for the best."

"Despite your actions leading to the loss of his unborn child Sherlock did Charles visit you in hospital afterwards?"  
"Yes."  
"Each and every time?"  
"Yes."  
"I'd like to submit exhibit 6 , Legate. Florist bills covering the period of each one of Sherlock's stays in hospital following the loss of an unborn child."  
The Legate accepted the evidence and leafed through it without comment.  
"Far from being an uncaring Alpha ... Charles Magnussen arranged the delivery of daily floral bouquets to fill your hospital room with scent exactly as he did for you at Apple Dore. Didn't he , Sherlock?"  
Sherlock gave a defeated sigh."Yes. He made sure there were flowers. Always flowers."  
Mungo laughed. "You're a brave man Magnussen, I'll say that for you . Having seen how your last bouquet was received by this ungrateful brat!" and Alpha laughter rose to the ceiling of the court as Sherlock dropped his head and was forced to sit still as he was laughed at.

Milne had a wide smile upon his face now...."The pregnancy with Aleksander.... did that also begin with nausea and the same initial signs?"  
"Worse. I was so sick I needed to be on a drip to rehydrate me . I couldn't stop being sick at all."  
"And the tiredness? Was that as it was before?"  
"Yes. I stayed in bed. I didn't want to get up and do anything."  
"Was this lethargy diagnosed as clinical depression?"  
"Yes."  
"And what treatment was given for that?"  
"Treatment? I had vitamins in a drip."  
"You were severely anaemic?"  
"Yes all through the pregnancy."  
"And what treatment did you receive for that? "  
"Iron tablets.... then injections... then a red blood cell transfusion."  
"Eventually poor fetal growth meant a premature birth became inevitable?"  
"Yes. "

"You were prepared for this to happen? You were given injections to prepare the lungs of the unborn child?"  
"I didn't know they were for that but yes."  
"The birth was induced and the baby delivered in a private suite of rooms with Dr Dervish and a specialist team in attendance?"  
"Yes." Sherlock said wearily.  
"Charles paid for exclusive use of an entire hospital floor?"  
" Yes."  
"And Charles remained by the bed throughout the birth?"  
Sherlock's sigh was audible. "Yes."  
"Dr Hussein will give evidence showing that you fought against the instinctive urge to push when time to deliver your son came. Is that so?"  
"I was scared. In pain and scared. I didn't know what to do, I'd had no antenatal classes to tell me what happened. I didn't know what to do or how."

Milne came back to stand close to Sherlock."When Aleksander was born you asked to see him?"  
"Yes."  
"But when asked if you wished to hold him you replied you did not?"  
"I've already said why that happened." Sherlock said.  
"Charles Magnussen will attest to an account that differs substantially from your version of events Sherlock."  
"How?" Sherlock said nervously.  
"The court will hear testimonial evidence that in fact it was Sherlock's own irrational and fearful behaviour that meant the baby was unable to be delivered onto his mother as is common practice but had to be removed for his own safety immediately after birth."

"That's a lie! That's not what happened!" Sherlock raised his voice to deny it. "And I can prove it!"  
The Legate held up a hand to warn Milne to be silent. "In what way , Sherlock?"  
"I timed how long they worked on Aleksander.... 17 minutes... I watched the clock.... if I was so irrational and crazy how would I have done that!" Sherlock was frantic. " I'd just had a baby.... but I still know that!"  
The Legate lowered his hand slowly...."Move on Mr Milne."

Milne hit back.... "After the birth Sherlock, how soon did you ask to visit your newly born son?"  
Sherlock took a shaky breath in. "I didn't. I didn't ask."  
"You didn't ask to see your own infant child?" Milne let disapproval and a feigned shock show in his tone.  
Sherlock said hopelessly. "No. I didn't feel ready ."  
"You didn't feel ready for what?"  
"I don't know exactly. I was in shock, I felt really cold and I kept shaking. They had to get extra blankets because I was going into shock. .... I was shaking all over...."  
A low muttering broke out on the Alpha side of the Court.

"You are here Sherlock claiming you love Aleksander enough to deserve visitation with him despite abandoning him....yet at his birth you were unsure how you felt about becoming a mother?" Milne made it sound absurd.  
"I was only 16... now I'm 20. I'm not the same person...." Sherlock tried to speak through the jeering from the Alpha side of the packed court.  
Weber was on his feet..."Objection ....Sherlock cannot be heard!"  
"Silence in court or I'll have the Usher empty the room!" The Legate spoke out and the court fell into an unstable silence.

Sherlock spoke quickly, pleading , head turned towards the Legate. "I just want to be his mother. That's all. I know I wasn't thinking right about it then but now I am.... he is my son too and he needs a mother! Please... he needs to know I love him!"  
Charles voice was the only sound in a court so silent a pin drop would have been audible.... "You gave away that privilege when you left your bond! Return to your senses and your bond and see your son again."  
Sherlock was breathing in fast shallow breaths, on the verge of tears but hands clutching at the wood of the witness box... "No. I left _you _.... I never meant to leave him! It's you I didn't love not Aleksander. It's you I never loved!"_ _

_  
After ten minutes of stamping feet and abusive catcalls roared at Sherlock from the Alpha side of the court the Legate was forced to admit defeat and acted to protect Sherlock , making sure the shaken Omega was escorted to his feet and safely out through a small doorway at the rear of the Court and proceedings were abandoned for the day._


	53. How Not To Solve A Problem....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg finds himself in for a shock at work....
> 
> Both Greg and Mycroft make the fundamental mistake of involving Sherlock in their problem....things only go from crazy to insane for both of them but eventually get sorted out....
> 
> Alan plays footsie under the table......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update is a day late...  
> Thanks Blue for the track rec...the lyrics are a brilliant match. Limon y Sal by Venegas

Greg's past included the odd lover.... of course it did.... but none quite like Mycroft Holmes. The strength of his emotional response to the Elite Alpha's studied, formal vulnerablity still took him by surprise at times but generally the Elite/Common class differences haf caused less issues than you'd have thought it could. In a lot of important ways they were compatible.  
However.... apparently asking Mycroft Holmes out on an actual date.... an evening of jazz , dance and good food.... had thoroughly thrown them out of synch.

The huge bouquet stood right in the middle of Greg's desk had been a surprise to say the least.  
In a million years Greg hadn't expected .... flowers.  
Every eye in Greg's crime squad team had been out on stalks from the second he got into work.....  
The kissy noises and funny comments from criminals and cohorts alike would last all day.  
"Getting bonded Greg? Didn't know you had a fella?"  
"My nana had a bunch just like that.... at her funeral ....."  
"Awww luverly .... I 'ad roses at me own wedding! Mind you we nicked the dress....bloody dsgrace the prices asked for them dresses."

"Psych sent us up a whole load of paperwork on our perp. I thought you'd want to see it straight away."  
Sally couldn't find a space on Greg's desk large enough to set the files down. Among the usual chaotic piles of paperwork ....the huge vase and arrangement dominated everything.  
She'd sat at her own shared desk and watched Greg move the towering bouquet about the desk top awkwardly and try and work around it as though it wasn't there. She had her own work to get through but even so she'd lost count of the number of time someone came by and cracked a 'witty' comment.  
After a whole afternoon of it both Greg's shoulders were up by his ears with tension.  
Now she watched as he shoved the huge bouquet aside brusquely yet again, knocking three case folders onto the grubby carpeted floor.... then hestitate before moving it more carefully across to the far side of his crowded desk and picking the files back up. The duality of the action.... both exasperated and careful..... spoke for itself.

"You should tell him, you know." Sally said.  


"Tell him what? That flowers aren't the best gift of choice to give an Omega DI unless you want to make him a laughing stock?" Greg wiped a dusting of heavy yellow pollen from the desk with a spare pair of socks from his desk drawer.  
"Well... how's he going to know if you don't speak up?" Sally watched Greg toss the socks over his shoulder and reach for the file just as Phillip Anderson sauntered by whistling the Alpha wedding march.  
"Sod it!" Greg muttered. He got up and moved the flowers to the top of the filing cabinet behind him.  


"Just tell him....." Sally repeated...."Before he starts sending you a bunch of flowers daily and an accordionist to go with them. Who knows how the Elite do things."  
Greg could see the good sense in that advice but he still didn't know how to go about telling Mycroft he'd stuffed up with the flowers!

"The removal of the teeth.... the post mortem says that must have been done by somebody with some knowledge of surgical technique? .... Maybe we're looking for an Elite Doctor.... or maybe the victims met their killer at a medical appointment.... Plastic surgery.... in the escort world that has to be pretty common place doesn't it? The killer could be a plastic surgeon if we can link them all back to one individual ." It didn't sound likely but Sherlock considered every angle....."Harley Street is how near to our body sites?"  
Greg blinked...." What? How are you linking our body to Harley Street when it went into the water at Greenwich?"  
"i just explained how....Teeth.... medical training.... medical grade equipment.... escort needing plastic surgery.... Elite plastic surgeon/possible killer.... Harley Street...." Sherlock was frustrated..... here they were with the first real tangible, psychological glimpse into the twisted mindset of the man, or men, who'd killed several Elite Omega, in a folder that was open on the kitchen table between them both and Greg's focus was .... well, wherever it was, it most certainly wasn't on the murder where it needed to be! "Of course it could also be Jack the Ripper come back to life... had enough of the grave , felt like getting back into the swing of killing again....." Sherlock tested out his theory that Greg was barely listening to anything he said.

"Right.... I can see how that could tally." Greg said , hauling his mind back to reality from the alternative reality inside his head which included lurid images of himself finishing his "no more flowers...I'm a detective" speech in front of a dance floor full of curious stares, stammering his words out in the face of Mycroft's frostily wounded expression, just before the Elite Alpha turned to walk away for ever.....  
Sherlock rolled his eyes...."You think the possibilty of a Victorian serial killer making a return from the grave is worth NSY looking into....?"  
"What...? " Greg heaved a sigh. " Sod it all! .... It's your brother...."  
Sherlock blinked and spoke with a wide eyed, sweet sounding agreeability . " You think Mycroft was Jack the Ripper?.... I'll admit I considered the possibilty years ago when I was 8.... but his age really doesn't fit the profile... plus he'd never risk blunting his hidiously expensive Swiss kitchen knives...." Suddenly Sherlock's excessively sweet voice changed and he yelled across the kitchen table at Greg in sheer frustration...."WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE REAL LESTRADE?" and witheringly ..... "THIS IS RIDICULOUS!"

Alan threw open the bedroom door within seconds...."What's all the yelling about?"  
"Mycroft sent Greg pre-date flowers and now Greg isnt concentrating on anything useful." Sherlock filled Alan in helpfully.  
Greg lowered his head in both hands and groaned.... if one Holmes brother didn't kill him with a heart attack prematurely the other probably would.

"Flowers...." Riddick drew the word out with enough of a hint of laughter clear in his voice to make Sherlock kick him twice into the ankle underneath the table where Greg wouldn't see. "I didn't see him as the flowery romantic type, your brother...." He tried and failed to keep the smirk off his face. "Nice flowers were they?"  
"You know I could unearth an old traffic offence or parking misdemeanor on you if I really tried. Just enough to do a 24 hour lock up with a raving lunatic who can't stop punching the walls." Greg threatened lightly.  
"You could likely unearth a lot worse than that on me if you went snooping!" Alan admitted with a short, incredulous laugh. "These flowers .... how'd they go down among a bunch of streetwise London coppers?"  
"Much as you'd expect...." Greg said wearily, knowing what was coming.  
"Couple of verses of Here Comes The Bride and a blue silk garter left on your desk by lunchtime?" Alan's snorted laughter at his own joke took a while to die down and he needed another firmer kick from Sherlock under the table before he had it under control enough to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes....

"You have to handle this carefully...." Sherlock said precisely as he sipped his tea and rubbed a slow circle over whatever part of Neep he could feel poking him under his palm. "It's an Elite courtship .... you definitely can't just tell him you don't like flowers..."  
Underneath the table Alan's socked foot slid over and rubbed against Sherlock's foot.... Sherlock moved his foot away so Alan waited a minute before trying again and sliding his foot over next to Sherlock's.  
"It's a matter of expected courtship behaviour." Sherlock added without even a pause. "It's traditionally Elite to give flowers." There was an unmistakeable shudder of pure revulsion in his voice as his own memories affected his opinion of that gesture.  
"It's not the flowers, so much.... there's a time and a place for them .... work isn't it... that's all." Greg shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  
Alan stretched out a long leg and slid his socked toes a little higher up onto Sherlock's ankle to tease at the bone.... "So just say that? It's honest. Honest is good, right?"  
"You can't be honest with Mycroft.... it's far too simplistic. He's....complicated. It's complicated." Sherlock was appalled at the very idea. "This is the first time Mycroft has courted anybody.... ever.... in his life! The first time he's sent anyone flowers!"

Greg moved uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you sure he's never dated anyone?"  
Sherlock gave Greg a sharp glance. "I'm me ... of course I'm sure!"  
"Modest as well as gorgeous aren't you, lad..."Alan teased with a grin and got a beautiful cheeky smile back.... He took a leisurely mouthful of tea, slouched down into his chair so he could reach and sneaked his socked toes up onto the inside of Sherlock's thigh....  
"For fucks sake!" Greg's chair shot back with so much force it almost fell over. "What the Hell are you playing at Alan? That's my leg you... randy berk of an Alpha!"  
"Holy shit!" Alan cursed as he shot upright in his chair , tea spilling everywhere. Beet red. "Sorry mate! Wrong Omega!"  
Sherlock's mouth dropped open in sheer joy... today couldn't possibly get any better.

Apprarently the world and his mother now knew Greg had been sent a romantic bouquet.... John hadn't showed up yet but Mrs Hudson had some pearls of wisdom to share.  
"Ohhh .... now I love a man who sends proper flowers!" Mrs Hudson said vaguely as she wiped the same small circle on the mirror above the fireplace for the umpteenth time. "Such a old fashioned romantic gesture. Not like this new swipe left or swipe right on Tinder."  
Sherlock got up from the chair and disappeared quietly into the bathroom.....  
"Yeah? I'm not sure flowers are my thing.... or Sherlock's either..." Greg phrased it as carefully as he could....  
"Not after that shite he was bonded too...." Alan added with a lot less tact.  
"Oh goodness me.... I never meant to upset him...." Martha was still feeling guilty enough about what had happened the week before to sound tearful to Greg's horror. "I wasn't thinking... I'd never upset Sherlock, ever.... You know how much I dote on that boy!"  
"Mrs Hudson... why are you having a meltdown on the sitting room rug?" Sherlock's puzzled voice came from right behind them.  
"Oh Sherlock!.... I'm so sorry." Martha said tearily.  
Sherlock gave a little oomph of surprise as an emotional Martha threw her arms round him and squeezed surprisingly hard.... Greg could hear his bemused, slightly squashed voice saying "I only went for a pee .... Did the world end while I was in there?" 

 

Mycroft sat behind his desk and stared into space.  
An admitedly somewhat curtailed search of 'jazz dinner date gay couples' between vital meetings hadn't made things any clearer in a sartorial sense.  
While many couples had photographed themselves at jazz clubs or open air performances, none were at exactly the sort of evening Gregory had invited him along too.  
Was it the type of occasion at which a dinner jacket was desired or was it more a .... and Mycroft gave the smallest of shudders at the idea... a casual jacket affair?  
Nothing Mycroft owned fitted into the casual suit category......  
However.....  
Dress wrongly and he could draw negative attention Greg's way.....  
There was only one solution.  
One desperate solution.....  
Mycroft reached reluctantly for his phone.....

"Let me guess .... You've been living a highly secretive life as a double agent and now you feel a sudden urge to confess it all and flee the country?"Sherlock said smugly from the other side of the car seat.  
"Don't be absurd brother mine.... nothing would entice me over to the dark side of treachery to Queen and country...." Mycroft retorted.  
"Then why am I here?" Sherlock asked flipantly as he pressed the privacy screen control several times in a row, sending the screen up and down as though it was on the blink....  
Mycroft removed Sherlock's long finger from the control button with a heartfelt sigh. "Do at least try to behave yourself.... Did you bring the kit?"  
"Of course... " Sherlock said and patted the shape of his housebreaking kit inside his pocket.... "But you still haven't told me why you want me to break into Greg's house for you?"  
Mycroft made sure the privacy screen stayed up before he answered by keeping his own finger firmly on the controls even though he was aware he lost dignity by engaging in such a juvenile power struggle......

"Suits Sherlock.... the whole area is a sartorial mine field. Its highly probable Gregory may have work colleagues there. It's vital I don't let him down by appearing over dressed...."  
"You've tried Google of course?" Sherlock said thoughtfully.  
"Do give me some credit. I'm hardly an ignoramous." Mycroft said with haughty dignity. "Jazz evenings vary so much.... it's quite impossible to predict which type of event this particular one is."  
"I'm pretty sure breaking into the home of your boyfriend to rummage through his wardrobe isn't what normal people do before a date." Sherlock said succinctly.

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose elegantly between thumb and fingers. "Since when have either one of us been definably normal?"  
Sherlock grabbed his moment and hit the red button again , bringing the security window down again to reveal Alan's startled face in the front passenger seat. "Would you say I was 'definably normal', Alan?" he demanded to know.  
"Huh? Normal? More....unique... That's the word, I'd use." Alan replied honestly.  
A blatant smirk crossed Mycroft's patrician face.  
"Oh for Christ's sake!" Sherlock announced and sagged back into his car seat dramatically.... "We do normal things together all the time, Alan!"  
Alan grinned.... "I do normal things.... You do things like order 10 ostrich eggs from Harrods and experiment on them with God knows what after you've sat each one on a beer tankard... One bloody exploded...."  
Sherlock hit the up button on the privacy screen urgently and cut the rest of the story off before Mycroft heard the whole fiasco......

"This is where Greg lives...." Sherlock sounded fascinated as the black BMW car idled at the kerb and he stared out the window at the weedy mess of grass and dandelions Greg presumably called a lawn.  
"Here in his natural habitat the Lestrade can relax ...." Alan said in his best David Attenborough impersonation....  
Sherlock sniggered.  
"For Heaven's sake both of you, it's a family home _not _a cage at London zoo.... If we could just get along with the job we came here to do...." Mycroft chided sternly.__

"There's a neighbourhood watch sticker on his window....I'm almost certain I saw a curtain twitch... The neighbour may call the Police before I can even open the door...." Sherlock sounded impressed that Mycroft was actually prepared to risk that.  
"Sherlock! Please.... " Mycroft's frustration was showing. "The sooner we get inside the sooner I can look through his suits and ascertain which one he plans on wearing that evening."  
Alan pulled on a beanie hat.... and tucked his jacket collar up before getting out of the car. He wasn't sure which Holmes brother was crazier. "Best go around to the back door, I'll hop the back gate and let you both in" he said.

It took slightly more time than Sherlock expected to open the four locks Greg had on his back door.... mainly because Neep kept kicking him into his ribs everytime Sherlock bent over. "These are good locks." Sherlock sounded out of breath, having twisted his wrist two times in a row trying to slide the last lock aside.  
"Yes.... well... Gregory is very security conscious." Mycroft said admiringly.  
"He's not much of a gardener though is he. There's a new flymo lawn mower in that shed, still in the box."Alan said after a quick look in through the shed's grimy windows. "Wonder why he doesn't cut the front lawn."  
Mycroft had been wondering the same thing.....possibly Gregory simply lacked the free time. He'd have to find out.  
The last lock opened with a loud click.. "Yes...!"A delighted Sherlock said under his breath...."After you, big brother." He added smugly, as though he'd expected to open it all along.

"Don't touch anything, Sherlock!" Mycroft had some justifiable reservations about leaving Sherlock alone in the kitchen, not knowing what clues into Gregory's lifestyle and the time they'd spent together here; his brother would be able to gleam from Gregory's unguarded home but time was too short for such hesitations.  
"Greg has the most enormous pepper mill..." Sherlock's voice called after Mycroft as the Alpha vanished up the stairs.  
"Some Omega do..."Alan said smuttily and Mycroft heard Sherlock laughing.  
Mycroft had barely set foot on the landing with its swirled ceiling plaster when Sherlock discovered the mooing biscuit jar.....MOOO.... MOOO.... MOOO.... MOOO ..... MOOO......MOOO....

Suits.... Gregory owned five. A ridiculously small number.  
Two were frankly abysmal. The heavy wear pattern at the cuff and right knee suggested Gregory wore these for work. He'd knelt on tarmac in both.  
The third ... slightly better quality.... worn to Court in a professional capacity. Kept for that occasion only.  
The fourth.... was his old wedding suit. Mycroft zipped that suit bag back up quickly.  
The fifth, clearly newer... smart in an understated, totally Lestradian way.  
Mycroft couldn't resist... he leant in close, nose near the lapel and inhaled .... There was a faint trace of aftershave balm but the lingering scent was that of Gregory.... masculine and rich with a subtle smoky underscent that Mycroft found incredible. It was easy to imagine the man himself inside the suit and the scent of his warm skin.  
Perhaps the jazz evening would be the night things moved a little further than kissing.....  
The flash of blue Police car lights through the lace curtains at the window sadly ended that particular fantasy....

"You broke into my house...." Greg couldn't bloody believe this. Faced with a shifty looking line up down the wall of his own hallway that included an unrepentant Sherlock, a resigned looking Alan and a mortified looking Mycroft .... All stood underneath the framed painting of the Last Supper with LED lighting over Christ's head that he'd bought for a laugh at his local market .... .  
"I realise this is .... somewhat unexpected..." Mycroft began....  
Greg raised both eyebrows as high as they'd go. "I can take it from here thanks, Sam..." he said to the one of the two local policemen. "You'd can take the cuffs off them now."

"You broke into my house.... "Greg wasn't sure how many times he'd need to repeat that before the absurdity of what he was saying faded.  
"If we're being accurate .... I broke in..." Sherlock said.  
Greg's 'cut out the nonsense' hazel eyes fixed firmly on Sherlock.  
"But it was all Mycroft's idea!" Sherlock added quickly.  
"Alan .... what the Hell are you doing here , going along with this madness?" Greg hoped for some sense from the Alpha.  
"Just keeping an eye on the lad and Neep. They were going to do it anyway." Alan sounded apologetic at least.  
Greg heaved a sigh.... "Course you were."  
Alan shifted awkwardly.... "Why don't I cut your lawn for you while I'm here? By way of saying sorry!"  
Greg watched the white LED halo above Christ's head in the painting flash on and off and change colours at speed from green through the spectrum to red... "Quit flicking the switch on my oil painting Sherlock.... Go help Alan mow the bloody lawn while I have a word with your brother... Alone." 

The sound of the lawn mower covered Greg's words until he shut the sitting room door firmly. "Let's try this again." Greg aimed for patience. "Why did you have Sherlock break into my house, Mycroft?"  
There was a faint embarassed flush staining Mycroft's cheekbones. "Can we just agree to leave this unfortunate incident in the past? I can assure you it won't happen again.... I should have known better than to involve Sherlock.... he instantly adds an element of chaos to any scenario...."  
"You breaking into my home is not a scenario... it's a criminal act." Greg said gruffly. "What I'm waiting to hear is why you did it in the first place!"  
Mycroft sighed.... "Suits." he replied inexplicably."I needed to see your suits...."

Sherlock's voice saying 'he's complicated. It's complicated' still sounded inside Greg's head.... over and over like a chorus to every thing Mycroft was saying.  
"So.... you broke into my home to have a look at my suits...." Greg literally couldn't bloody believe this. If Sherlock as half as crazy as Mycroft then Alan Riddick had to have the patience of a saint. "Any idea how .... nuts that sounds?"  
Mycroft sat down with an uncharacteristic heaviness. "I do realise .... I was hoping to avoid any risk of a social faux pas....It's a social setting I am.... unused too..."  
From Greg's kitchen the sound of Sherlock messing about with the mooing biscuit jar began again and he heard Alan calling Sherlock back into the garden before the lawn mower started up again.

"What kind of a faux pas do you think can happen?It's a date. " Greg asked flatly as his work phone began buzzing in his jacket pocket. "Not now Sally," he said bluntly before ending the call and tossing the mobile onto the couch.  
Mycroft knew just how much Gregory's work meant to him. For the man to reject a work call was monumental. "I was concerned .... that I may arrive somewhat.... overdressed.... for an evening of jazz" he admitted reluctantly.

Something changed in Greg's face that Mycroft found hard to read. "Look.... the suits.... the umbrella .... it's all part who you are." Greg spoke slowly thinking about each word before he said it. "I don't expect you to change any of that for me. I'm hoping you don't want me to change any part of who I am for you? This date thing.... it's meant to be fun for both of us. Not some kind of test."  
Mycroft looked like he had the begining of a headache. "I can only apologise,"he said with quiet dignity.

"You're not the only person whose ever felt out of place," Greg confessed. "Try being the only Omega in a rugby team or the only homicide detective who can take a knot."  
Mycroft wisely said nothing.  
"I thought ... we were both past all that bullshit ....?" Greg hated having to ask but if this was going nowhere he needed to know.  
"We are." Mycroft was quick to speak.  
"I hope so," Greg ignored the sound of Alan and Sherlock bickering their way happily past his sitting room window and starting up the lawn mower again. " Elite or Common.... It doesn't seem to matter to Sherlock or Alan does it?"  
"No. Sherlock can be himself." Mycroft agreed... thinking of the 'promise' ring Ridick had owned up to giving Sherlock mere days ago and of the fragile hope he'd seen in Sherlock's face that Mycroft would accept it without too much arguing despite the unorthodoxy of the situation.

Greg gave a long exhale. "Next time you need to know something about me .... ask me. Trust me it's a lot simpler. "  
"Of course."  
It was now or never. "The flowers...."Greg said.  
"You don't like flowers?" Mycroft's voice was impossible to read.  
Greg said. "It's not that I don't like flowers... I try and keep my work and personal life separate .....That's all."  
Mycroft looked horrified. "I embarassed you among your work colleagues?"  
"Nothing that extreme. They'll get over it."Greg said. "A few of them are a bit unresconstructed Alpha that's all. They're good guys underneath." He paused. "I worked hard to get myself seen as a detective the same as they are and not 'the Omega detective'...."  
"At University... I had lecturers who were surprised I persisted with my study. They saw hard work as unnecessary for someone of my social standing." It still annoyed Mycroft even now, he was surprised to realise.  
"I'm for promotion on merit myself." Greg agreed. He was increasingly aware of the rich, warming scent of Mycroft's skin.... like sandalwood but mixed with something lighter. Vanilla, he realised suddenly.... had to be a Holmes family scent , Sherlock's own scent was similiar.  
The step closer he took was almost unaware, as Mycroft took his own slow inhale and stepped nearer.  
They were a heartbeat away from a kiss.....

The opening door jolted both of them out of it with a jarring suddeness....  
"Greg , Alan wants to know can we use one of those old wellington boots in your shed to run it over with the land mower?" Sherlock poked his head round the door.  
" _Alan _wants to know that, does he?" Greg said, his disbelief clear.__  
"Well .... not exactly.... but he did say if you agree we can run a few pairs over ... and I was thinking we could stuff them with some different things....to approximate foot injuries to different body tissue. You don't need all those oranges do you.... or those plastic onions? I can't see why you have those anyway and they are covered in dust."  
Mycroft took his deepest 'God please give me strength' inhalation .

"Take whatever.... long as it's not my avocado," Greg said.  
Sherlock's head vanished fast.....  
"Wait a minute, sunshine...." Greg called after him.  
Sherlock's head reappeared.  
"Close the door.... I was just about to snog your brother...." Greg said.  
The door closed and Greg was lowering his mouth to Mycroft's when suddenly Sherlock opened it again.... "Does this mean you'll be back concentrating on murder now?" Sherlock asked hopefully."Because I still think my surgeon theory is worth investigation...."  
"Sherlock Holmes...."Mycroft said, exasperation colouring every syllable. "Go away and macerate some fruit filled wellington boots before Alan puts the lawn mower back into the shed!"  
The door banged shut and Sherlock yelled down the hallway ......"Take the avocado out the boot , Alan....Greg says he is going to eat it!"

The lawn mower roared into noisy life and almost instantly a shredded part of a Wellington boot struck the glass of Greg's sitting room window....but by then both Mycroft and Greg were far too involved to notice or care....


	54. Lengthening Shadows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock isn't well.
> 
> John steps into his future role without even realising he is doing it and helps Sherlock realise something about all the murdered Omega. 
> 
> Alan and John try to get along and fail as usual .....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track is Wolves by Selena Gomez and Marshmello.
> 
> Trigger warning...the death of a child is talked about.
> 
> Some foreshadowing at the end of this ....literally.....

John rolled over and fumbled for his phone in the dark bedroom.  
" Yeah...Hello?"  
"John.... Any chance you could come over?" Alan's voice sounded like he was deliberately keeping it low but John could pick up on the worry behind the call.  
"What's wrong?" John swung his feet out of bed and sat up in one fast move. Behind him Saul opened his eyes, gave John's back a belligerent stare , got out of bed and disappeared into the en suite.  
"Sherlock's due at court in two hours .... he won't get out the bed, John. He says his back is at him again. I can get him up out of bed but I need to know he's ok first."  
"Any regular back pains that could be contractions?" John asked.  
"How the Hell would I know? I'm not a doctor. You coming?" Alan replied tersely.  
"I'll grab a cab," John said.  
"Mycroft said to tell you there'll be a car outside for you."

John moved fast but by the time he was out the shower Mycroft's car and driver were idling kerbside and Saul had made himself coffee and a croissant and had turned the news on....  
"I have to go. Sherlock's not well. I need to check him over....if he can't make the Court today we'll have to be fast and let the Legate know..." John was zipping up his jacket as he spoke.  
"Right...." Saul didn't bother hiding the flat resentment in his tone.  
John paused.... "Saul? I have to go."  
Saul picked up the remote and began flicking silently through channels.  
"I'll give you a call later?"  
Saul turned up the volume ......"Sure" he said. 

Baker Street was quiet except for the street sweeper machine that was cleaning the pavement.  
Riddick ran downstairs to get the door. "He's still in bed. Come up, Martha said she'd cook him some breakfast but he says he doesn't feel like eating anything."  
"Just hold back on the breakfast...until I've checked him over. In case there's a problem." John hoped not... the baby was still too immature to be viable.  
Alan gave John a sharp look and headed up the stairs ahead of him at speed, leaving John to follow at his own pace.

"John's here." Alan had a wary note in his voice that showed he knew Sherlock wasn't going to be happy about it.  
"I told you .... you didn't need to fuss.... Just tell Mycroft I can't come into court today. I need to stay in bed, that's all."  
Mrs Hudson brushed her hand over Sherlock's forehead before she stood up. John knew her well enough to know she was worried about the Omega.  
"I'm here now.... may as well check you out." John said."I'll just wash my hands if that's ok, Alan?"  
"Yeah... I left you a clean towel on the side of the sink." Alan replied. 

Sherlock was quietly passive.... allowing John to take his temperature and blood pressure without any meaningful engagement.  
"Ok .... your temperature is a little high...." John put a specimen jar next to Sherlock. "Can you catch me a mid-stream urine sample? You know what that is , yeah? Pee a bit....catch a bit when you're in full flow."  
Sherlock gave John a deathly stare and made zero effort to sit up.  
"I did _bring _a bed pan...."John said, as if he was seriously considering if they'd need it. "Want me to ask Alan to help you onto it?"__  
"I'm not 100!" Sherlock huffed moodily.  
Riddick held out a hand...."Up you get then.....Don't forget to flush and wash your hands after."  
The sound of Sherlock's swearing ended with the toilet flush and made both John and Alan grin.

____

In a matter of minutes Sherlock was back and sliding into the bed like he'd never left it.  
"Forget something did we?" John asked.  
A slim hand emerged and placed a still warm specimen jar in John's outstretched hand.  
"Lovely. Ta very much." John said.  
"Seriously... there is something off about you being this excited about testing my pee. " Sherlock sniped.  
"I'm not testing it....You are. Come on, here's a dip stick. I'll even hold the jar for you...." John offered as he pulled on his latex gloves.  
"You'll letting me do some doctor stuff? Isn't that a breach of medical law or something?" Sherlock sounded surprised.  
"Nope and I'm pretty sure dipping a test stick isn't going to tax a genius like you too much.... " John teased. "Come on, hurry up.... it's going cold here!"

 

Sherlock squinted at the test result strips and moved the stick around until he was almost certain it was on the nearest colour match. "There....?"  
John leant closer to see. " Yeah, I'd say so. Congratulations Sherlock.... looks like you have a bacterial urinary tract infection. "  
"Joy...." Sherlock said. "That's all this is?"  
John almost laughed. "Don't get too blasé on me. Looks like it's a nasty one.... that's a trace of blood in the urine you have there. It'd need to go to the lab to know which one exactly but I can treat it with a broad spectrum antibiotic."  
"That's why my back aches?"  
" I still want to check out the baby and you....just to be sure...but a kidney infection can give you back pains, yeah. Have you any pain when you pee?"  
"No."  
"Strange smelling urine?"  
Sherlock pulled a disgusted face and shook his head.  
"Peeing a lot more than usual?"  
"I'm pregnant, John ....I've been peeing for Britain for months." Sherlock said with heartfelt honesty.  
" It's not an Olympic sport is it.... peeing? " John flashed a grin.  
"If it ever becomes one during this pregnancy I am a dead cert for the gold medal.... and probably the world record as well." Sherlock answered matter of factly. 

"You'll need to get some meds from the chemist." John said.  
"I can do that, John." Martha offered..  
Alan pushed his plate away and stood up. "Sherlock alright?"  
"Yeah, it's a nasty UTI.... urinary tract infection. It's causing some kidney pain so I'd like to treat it , the antibiotic I'm giving him is safe to use in pregnancy."  
"Ok." Alan glanced at the perscription before he handed it over to Martha."That what's been giving him backache?"  
John nodded. " Probably. It's common in pregnancy. He needs to get some rest, drink plenty of fluids to flush things out and stay in the warm. He'll be feeling pretty rotten until the meds kick in."  
"No court today?" Alan checked to be sure.  
"Maybe tomorrow. I've already filled in the exemption paperwork. Mycroft says he'll send a courier for it."  
Alan nodded. "The baby... is the little one alright?"  
"Heartbeat was good and strong and Sherlock says there are plenty of movements through the day. Shouldn't effect the baby at all."  
Alan looked relieved.  
John said. "When do you next see Lars?"  
Alan checked his phone. "End of the week."  
John's advice was calmly given. "Lars can get more accurate measurements with a scan than I can by touch but the baby feels a little small for dates."  
" Aye , Lars said. I've been nagging Sherlock to eat as much as I can but he's fussy about food." Riddick admitted.

"Can he eat a bite of breakfast now?" Alan sounded worried again.  
"Yeah.... but he said to tell you.... no cereal and definitely no toast or yoghurt."  
Alan grinned. "I'll get him my fail safe brekkie. Tell his Lordship, I'll be in a couple of minutes?"

"So....this is my Murder Map, for lack of a better name..... I've marked where every Elite Omega body was found with red dots .... you see how many were found along the banks of the Thames over the last six years?" Sherlock had the map laid out open on the bed.  
"No chance they were murdered on a river boat?" John suggested. "Lots of posh river cruisers go along that stretch of water there at night.... You know , the party boats?"  
Sherlock drew in a sharp breath..... "That's it! John that was incredible!"  
"What a river cruise boat? You think that's where they were murdered?" John was impressed that he'd actually solved it.  
"Not the cruise...That idea would never work, its 100% flawed! Noise travels at night over water and with all the boats going up and down the killer would be taking a massive chance on being seen. " Sherlock grabbed at the map. "No John....you're so very _wrong _it showed me what could be right!"  
John began laughing. The strange mix of dismissal and praise just struck him as funny. "Thanks.... I think!"__

____

"Imagine you are an Elite Alpha.... and you want to party.... You've booked a boy and you plan on raping then killing him with your friends. You need privacy and time .... You can't be seen and you definitely don't want to risk being heard! So..... where is the safest place to commit a murder, John?"  
John frowned. "Um... middle of nowhere so nobody hears any screaming and there is nowhere to run too?"  
Sherlock's mouth fell open..... "John , you've never been the most luminous of people .... but in this instance you are almost brilliant!"  
"I don't get it?" John couldn't see why Sherlock was so pleased.  
"A soundproof, lockable room, John.... maybe a heat suite, every Elite home has one and it's only used once monthly..... that's where they are raping and killing all these Elite Omega boys. They arrive to be the entertainment at a party and they go into that room and they never leave it alive again!"  
John knew instantly that Sherlock was right.  
He'd spent years trying to prove a link between Elite Alphas and any one of the many Elite Omega boys working in the sex trade who'd vanished Europe wide.  
Magnussen's own group of Elite Alpha friends had been rumoured to be behind some of the disappearances for years.... linked via persistent stories of twisted decadence , that only their money and power kept quiet....without evidence or witnesses it was impossible to prove or disprove. 

"I need to talk with Greg.... I need to see the next body they find exactly where its found, maybe if I do I can see some clues the police aren't seeing.... and there will be another body, John.... Whoever these Alpha are .... they won't stop killing.... it's fun to them! Whoever is doing it has to be a sexual sadist."  
John made sure he kept his focus down on Sherlock's painstaking map with its scattered pattern of red dots so the Omega couldn't see his face. "There is no way on this earth Greg will let you anywhere near a body!"  
Sherlock's eyes flickered between John's lowered head and the red marks on his map. Mind already working overtime for ways around the obstacle of Greg's refusal. If he could only see a victim.... he knew he could get inside the mind of the killers. "He might. Greg wants to catch this man..."  
"Just give Greg your map and let him get to work on it." John's gut clenched at the idea of Sherlock unearthing a truth that could get him killed. "Forget it Sherlock.... it'll never happen." John knew there was just no way.

"What'll never happen?" Riddick asked from the doorway.  
"Watching Greg work." Sherlock's guilty eyes went straight to the Alpha then dropped to the mug in Alan's hands. "Hot chocolate...." he breathed the words out as though they were magical.  
"I'd agree with John there. No way your brother'd allow it." Alan watched the way Sherlock's eyes stayed on the brimming mug as he set it down. "There you go lovely lad. Mind yourself now.... it's boiling hot." Riddick busied himself plumping pillows behind Sherlock until the Omega looked comfortable. "That ok for your back?" Alan checked.  
"It's better. Neep.... please move whatever part of you that is." Sherlock winced as the baby gave him a push from the inside.  
"He's probably a mardy lad like his mother when he's hungry too." Alan reached into his pocket and took out a chocolate bar.... unwrapping it and breaking off a square before handing it over to Sherlock.  
" It's.... perfect." Sherlock dipped the chocolate square into his drink then put it in his mouth when it had melted slightly and took another sip of hot chocolate to melt it more on his tongue.  
It took John a minute to realise the contented hum he could hear was coming from Sherlock......

"I can get the spray cream if you need it?" Alan offered.  
"Who thought up this crazy idea of a healthy breakfast?" John had to laugh.  
"Used to be my sister's favourite. She'd fluid on the brain." Alan said, watching as a blissful Sherlock repeated the process with a second square. "Got a sweet tooth, haven't you lad? Now't wrong with indulging it sometimes."  
"Hydrocephalus? " John cast his mind back, to the forms Sherlock had filled in about medical history for Lars. Try as he might he couldn't remember seeing that written down..... "You said it used to be? Used to be her favourite?"  
"Aye, she died. Young." Alan cast an eye John's way.  
"How young?" John saw Sherlock look anxiously over at him with a shake of his head but he ignored it, concerned about any possible risk to the health of Sherlock's unborn child.  
"Four. The fluid built up in her head." Alan's reply was short. Though he hadn't asked John to back off he clearly resented the questions.  
"Did she have a shunt?"  
"Nope." Alan's short answer was meant to shut the conversation down.  
"Did you say we have spray cream? I think I need some." Sherlock was desperate to interrupt.  
Alan glanced Sherlock's way. "I'll fetch you some for on top."

"Don't ask about it. Alan won't talk about his family." Sherlock said very fast.  
"You didn't mention that he had a sister who died? Does Lars know?" John kept his voice down.  
"Is it medically important?" Sherlock was quick to ask.  
"It could be. Depends why she had hydrocephalous and if the cause was genetic." John was honest.  
"She'd measles in the womb. She was born with it. Born blind too." Alan's voice came from the doorway behind John. "Done with snooping all about my family business, have you?"  
"Sorry. I was worried about any possible health implications for Sherlock's pregnancy." John tried to explain.  
"There bloody aren't any. Sherlock's had all his jabs, every year, regular as clockwork. My mother wasn't vaccinated for measles, none of us were....one of my brothers bought it home from school and we all went down with it. End of story."  
John knew from the set of Riddick's jaw that the welcome mat had been well and truly pulled back. It was the first time in all his dealings with the rival Alpha that he'd ever have said he regretted it. 

When John reached the street he texted Sherlock ....one word. SORRY.  
Sherlock could feel Alan's eyes on him as he answered the text. "It's John . Apologising."  
"Yeah?" Alan sounded disinterested.  
"He didn't mean it.... in a bad way." Sherlock hated this. Why couldn't they both just learn how to get along? They almost had been and now it was ruined.  
" Maybe he didn't but he should have asked me to my face .... not you behind my back." Alan took the mug from Sherlock and filled the top with spray cream. "There you go.... this'll fatten you and Neep up like a pair of Christmas turkeys." The hard edge to his voice faded away when he spoke to the Omega.  
"It had better not. I feel stretched enough already." Sherlock said, his inky eyes stayed on Riddick, making sure the Alpha was ok.  
Alan shook his head.... "You've the tidiest little bump I've ever seen. It's like the rest of you.... beautiful."  
"You'd say that if I was whale sized and had more stretch marks than a road map." Sherlock said.  
Alan gave a low laugh but didn't deny it. "There'd just be a bit more of you to love. That's all. Finish your hot chocolate."  
"Feeder...." Sherlock teased Alan gently, with a sideways bump of his shoulder against Alan's. "I'm full to bursting." He lent into Alan's body and slid an arm behind him.  
"Behave yourself." Riddick said indulgently. "I've still got that spray cream remember... I'm armed and dangerous."  
"You wouldn't dare." Sherlock said, his eyes bright with laughter.  
"Oh, you think so huh?" Alan said with a grin as he fumbled for the cream canister trying not to let Sherlock realise what was coming.  
"I know so...." Sherlock said smugly, knowing he already held the cream canister in one hand over Alan's head.  
Riddick's hand felt blindly about and still came up empty..... he was alerted by the cap flying out onto the bed and by the sound of squirting cream above his own head a bare second before it hit the top of his hair....

 

Evening in the city brings its own dull light, punctuated by the bright red and bright illuminated windows of the double decker buses full of workers heading for home.  
Through the tall sitting room windows the fading city light fell back across the brightly coloured rug upon the floor and the rich, burnished wood of the violin in its case.... retreating hourly, until the room lay in darkness.  
Inside the bedroom Alan lay with Sherlock tucked into his side and the lad's sleeping head resting against his chest.  
Riddick stroked his hand up and round Sherlock's shoulder in a slow, gentle caress and tightened his arm around the Omega as a white moon rose and the night lengthened the long , thin shadows from the tall paned window until they crept like cell bars around the bed.  
It was hard to admit.  
Harder still to face.  
The thought of being sent to prison and losing Sherlock from his life for any time had him terrified.


	55. Evidence of Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries not to show a reaction to the hatred he faces daily on the Bond Court steps.
> 
> CAM's twisted mindset reveals itself again.
> 
> Aric finds it impossible to steer his client in the direction he originally intended but it turns out to provide an opportunity as Sherlock finds himself with a new and vocal supporter inside the hostile court room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diamond dust is a weather phenomena and incredibly beautiful... Ice particles freeze in the air and glitter like tiny diamonds....
> 
> Trigger warning applies as Sherlock talks about the suicidal depression he was living under.
> 
> Fancy man....a man you find sexually  
> attractive.
> 
> Hope this track rec doesn't seem too strange....Pretty Girl Explicit by Maggie Lindemann

In the narrow Tudor stairway that lay behind the main court room Aric Weber had stacked his client files on the floor inside one of its narrow window embrasures and was face timing his own Omega.  
"You are worried Aric? About today?" Aprielle could read his Alpha like a book.  
Aric didn't deny it. "The miscarriages Sherlock induced in himself will be hard to justify. At best they will lose us some of the sympathy I have worked hard to build and at worst they may even cast doubts over how many of the 'natural' miscarriages Sherlock suffered were entirely unprovoked by his own actions."  
The tips of Aprielle's blue dyed hair shone in the kitchen light as he moved in his chair to answer. Behind him a cat walked along the kitchen worktop, tail in the air. "But you have a way to win them around. You have the visual evidence to do so, if you will only use it... You can't hold back, Aric."  
Aric knew Aprielle was right. "I must ... for now. There is still the bond severance to come. I must hold some gunpowder back if I am to explode it then." Aprielle lifted a cup of coffee to his mouth and Aric saw a wide taped dressing covered most of his hand. "The new cat has bitten you? Why did you not wear the gloves?"  
"No...no. A scratch is all. The towel I had around him at the vets slipped." Aprielle was flushed.  
Aric's voice had deepened in concern. "Show me."  
The livid red marks gouged over Aprielle's skin were more than just 'a scratch'. "It's nothing....don't worry, Aric. He was afraid. Poor thing."  
"It is not nothing.... You must be more careful. Aprielle....please."  
"I will. You should not worry about me. Not today."

Aric heaved a sigh, to argue and win with Aprielle was impossible.  
"How will you win over the Legate, Aric? If you are not focused?" Aprielle nagged softly.  
"I am focused.... We will win him if Sherlock can withstand the day.... like a sapling he must bend and not break." A heavy door banged somewhere below Aric and he paused to listen as he heard Milnes voice. "I have not much time.The Legate will soon leave Chambers and enter the court. This morning.... I cannot win public opinion to our side.... the best to hope for is that we weather the storm.... this afternoon, I'll move to the stillbirth Sherlock suffered....then the lack of any meaningful contact with Aleksander that Magnussen allowed Sherlock . If I can show Magnussen as the abuser he truly is.... then who knows, I may claw some empathy back before the day ends."  
"You can do this. Nobody reads a court or a Legate better than you do."  
"I hope so."  
"No... You know so. Say it Aric." Aprielle moved in his chair, his face suddenly tight with discomfort.  
"I know so....You aren't well?" Aric noticed at once.  
"Only a few cramps," Aprielle promised with a smile. "Soon you'll be home...and I will be in heat. My big bear...I can't wait to be with you!"  
Aric's low rumbled bear growl made Aprielle laugh......

Sherlock knew should be used to it by now but he wasn't and he didn't think he ever could be.  
As soon as the muttered contempt began he could feel his stomach clench and as the volume grew louder and more Alpha joined in his stomach became a painfully clenched ball....by the time the foot stamping was resonating around the stone courtyard he was sick with tension and every time he managed to make out the exact words an individual was shouting at him and link it to a hate filed face his hands had begun to shake so much he had to hide them in his jacket sleeves.  
A bald headed, pink faced Alpha in a smart city suit stepped forward and roared 'common loving bitch' across the steps between them.  
Sherlock drew in his breath sharply and held it.  
"Just ignore them." Alan reassured him.  
It didn't help.  
"I am ignoring them," Sherlock hated the way his voice shook.  
"Bunch of knob ends. " Alan added vehemently. "Only a mother could love that bald one ..... face like a pigs arse on him."  
Oddly that helped more.

The court was so dark inside that the electric lighting had had to be turned on. Outside its huge leaded windows the London sky was dark and stormy and rain had already started to spatter the pale gothic statues above its butressed stone walls.  
There were a few more seats take on Sherlock's side of the court than usual...he saw Alan turn his head to check out who occupied them and then dismiss them as a possible risk. All five were elderly ....one frail , white haired omega man managed to look Sherlock in the eyes before he could duck his head and hide from the contact.  
The makings of Aric's chrome and black pipe were already laid out upon the huge desk on their side of the court room but the lawyer himself was nowhere to be seen when Sherlock looked for him.  
Sherlock felt his tender stomach muscles clench again briefly as Neep gave a fast movement inside him before settling uncomfortably against his spine and Sherlock hid the sudden pressured feeling that gave him internally by taking one slow steadying breath followed by another.  
"Sherlock...?" Mycroft was looking at him with open concern.  
Alan's head turned sharply.  
"I'm alright." Sherlock lied and reassured both of them.

 

The baggy thick knit indigo sweater Sherlock was wearing made his skin look almost translucent and darkened the deep navy blue of his eyes so much the sliver in them sparkled like diamond dust.  
Magnussen's calculating, hungry stare hadn't moved from the Omega since Sherlock had entered the court.  
Sherlock refused to look his way.... staring with stubborn determination at the Omega side of the court room only.  
Alexei leant across , his lean boned face alive with a spiteful curiosity .... "Sherlock looks pale does he not....perhaps suffering the animalistic demands of a common brute such as Riddick is begining to exhaust him."  
Charles knew better than to allow Alexei the heated emotional response he craved as a novelty. "The bastard he carries within him is more likely the cause.... "  
Alexei turned his own stare Sherlock's way and as though aware of the added attention Sherlock moved to block the view of his body with an arm. "The child... this Elite/common hybrid.... when you regain control of Sherlock, what are your plans for it?"  
"You have an interest?" Charles was surprised.  
" I have Alpha sons .... it may afford them some amusement as a plaything as they near puberty....should it resemble the beautiful Sherlock of course...." Alexei hid his own interest carefully.  
Charles turned his glacially blue eyes upon Alexei. "It may not survive such use" he said coldly.  
"It is your decision is it not? Life ...or ....death for Riddick's bastard?" Alexei's eyes returned to Sherlock's perfect profile.  
"For every action there must be consequences.... a lesson Sherlock has yet to learn," Charles said enigmatically. "Who better to teach him that truth than those he loves... The first lesson begins this weekend."  
Alexei's smile was full of a sadistic relish.  
Magnussen watched the Legate and his fellow Judges take their seats, three points of gory scarlet against the onminous dark. From the smaller door on the other side of the court Aric Weber in his black robes entered under the macrabre, carved medieval figures of skeletons that capered overhead.

 

Aric had moved down the court to stand closer to the Omega, the solid width of his back between Magnussen and the youth.  
On the huge screen pandemonium had broken loose. The split screen showed Sherlock's tutor, Mr Patel, hammering on a locked door with both hands as several bodyguards in black came running down the corridor , threw him aside and took a bright yellow police issue battering ram to the door....slamming it against the wood again and again until it splintered and caved in, as inside the locked room Sherlock arched violently on the floor with crimson air filled bubbles of blood covering his face.  
"You ensured your tutor was locked out of the laboratory for sufficent time to enable you to concoct your own chemical mixture and drink it?" Aric kept any judgement from his voice.  
"Yes, obviously I wasn't fast enough." Sherlock was still staring at the images, onscreen his own body hung limply as he was placed upon a gurney.  
"The mixture you drank resulted in the loss of a fertilised embryo? A pregnancy of 4 weeks gestation that you had found out you were carrying only a day before?" Aric raised his voice above the ugly mutterings of Elite dissent he could hear from behind him.

"Objection...my honourable colleague seeks to mimimise the contrived destruction of this unborn life by the terms he uses. This was much more than a fertilised embryo, it was potentially a second, Alpha son for Mr Magnussen...." Milne interjected but fell silent when the Legate held up a hand.  
"I'll take that objection under consideration, Mr Milne....You may answer Herr Weber's question, Sherlock." The Legate's voice was calmly rational.

Sherlock didn't deny anything he had done. "I used Mr Patel's own laptop to hack into the online system for the emergency door locks and triggered a lockdown. I already knew which chemicals I could use if I mixed them."  
"And why would you do such a thing?"  
"Why...?" The question seemed to surprise Sherlock. "Because I was done with living like I was, there was no way out. My life was never going to get any better, I knew that.... I wanted it all to end...."  
Aric raised his voice above the low unsettling noise of Alpha opinion...."This was a suicide attempt, Sherlock and not just an attempt to end an unwanted pregnancy?"  
Sherlock looked at Mycroft, remembering how his brother had disguised himself to be by his bedside when he woke in hospital...he opened his hand and looked to the scattering of lines on his own palm before he spoke..... "I meant to die. If that meant the baby died too...I thought that was for the best. "  
Aric stood still. "Did you suspect the pregnancy was Omega?"  
"No... I don't know. I hadn't even realised I was pregnant again until Lauther suggested I was. I knew straight away he was right," Sherlock's hands were shaking. " I hadn't even thought about what secondary gender a baby could be.... Maybe it would have been Omega but I don't know."  
Weber said calmly. "And if you'd known this pregnancy was that of an Alpha child, Sherlock.... would that have made any significant difference to your mindset at that time?"  
"No." Sherlock answered shockingly and didn't even flinch as the Alpha side of the courtroom erupted in vocal protest. 

With the noise of the Legate's gavel still ringing in his ears Sherlock waited until there was silence before speaking again. "I didn't want to be bred again. I didn't want to have another pregnancy. I didn't want to go through all that pain just to have another child I never got to know. My whole life was pointless. I had no freedom. No privacy. Nothing changed except for the worst. I didn't want to live like that...it wasn't a life at all. Not really."  
"Would you describe yourself as severely depressed at that time, Sherlock?"  
"No.... or if I was I'd stopped noticing. I was unhappy all the time. I spent days on my own in my rooms with nothing to do. I had no one to call a friend. Nobody I could talk too or spend time with....." Sherlock swiped a hand over his face , furious with himself for crying. "I missed my brother....my home.... John...even school."  
"Let the records show the defendant refers to John Hamish Watson.... a fellow pupil at Sherlock's school." Aric spoke the formulaic words in explanation of Sherlock's evidence. "You shared a room with John Watson at Marlow , Sherlock?"  
"Yes. He was my best friend. My only friend." Sherlock pulled a tissue from the box the Legate had instructed the usher to place before the Omega.  
"Had you made no more recent friends among the Omega bonded to those Alpha in Charles intimate circle....?" Aric spoke without thought of the words he'd chosen.  
Sherlock stared out from the witness box, ashen faced and speechless......  
"Answer the question boy!" Mungo lost patience with the Omega fast.  
"There is no need.... I withdraw it. If the Legate would strike it from court records?" Weber said quickly, all too aware of the triggering potential of those words. He felt the Legate's evaluative stare upon him before permission was granted.

"For the purpose of my own interest in this matter, I should like a more detailed answer... How many friends did you have at this time Sherlock?"The Legates dry voice silenced the court.  
"None." Sherlock's voice was dulled and miserable.  
"Among those Omega bonded to Alpha Charles considered close friends ...had you made any friends among those Elite Omega, Sherlock?"  
"No..." Sherlock sounded ashamed. "I never found making friends easy. I liked different things... and I had my brother so there was no need to try hard ....before I was bonded it never worked out, except for Victor.... After I was bonded....I lost interest in a lot of things I liked doing before. I didn't do well the first year at Marlow...I was bullied and I was worried in case anyone found out I was bonded and had been pregnant....I thought they'd see me as some kind of freak. I kept myself safe by not talking....that way I couldn't be asked any questions . People thought I was weird but that was still better than them knowing the truth. Then I shared a room with John and that all changed.... we were friends. From straight away we were friends." Sherlock's voice faltered as he saw Alan watching him intently. "After ...I never met anyone else to be friends with.... until Alan."  
"Alan Riddick.... the bodyguard employed by your Alpha?" The Legate checked the facts without obvious judgement.  
"Yes."  
"You knew no other Elite Omega at this time?" The Legate made sure he understood.  
"No. Charles didn't want me to mix. I hadn't met any of the other Omega bonded to Charles friends. I was kept on my own." Sherlock's voice was quiet.  
Milne opened his mouth to object before remembering these were the Legate's own questions and closing it without comment.  
"I see.... Continue, Herr Weber." The Legate said thoughtfully.

Aric took a moment to regain his direction and absorb into his planned line of questioning the new facts the Legate had just made public. Sometimes flexibilty paid off...with that in mind he moved away from his intended line of questioning concerning the stillborn child.... "How regular was the contact permitted by your Alpha with family or pre-bond friends such as John, Sherlock?"  
"None."  
"None....?" Aric played up the incredulity in his own voice.  
Magnussen leant forward so he could see Sherlock as the Omega answered."Nothing...none... There was nobody."

Mungo spoke up.... "You had a bondmate and a child boy.... you'd have had more children to keep you busy had you not chosen to do what you did!"  
Sherlock's head jerked round. " How did a child I never saw keep me busy? Aleksander had nannies and staff to do everything from day one. He didn't even know who I was , we were apart so much every year!"  
Mungo's mood was confrontational. "Never the less boy...you made the choice to abscond from your lawful bond with your fancy man.... leaving your own son motherless!"  
Sherlock opened his mouth to answer ... then closed it....finally he spoke.... "I wasn't the person I am now....I wasn't in a good place. I had no strength left. I couldn't see I had anything to offer anybody. "  
Mungo made a dismissive hah sound.  
"You don't want to die....."Sherlock said bleakly, "unless you can't see any valid reason to live."

Aric ran through all possible directions in his head , watching the water jump inside the glass as Sherlock raised it with both shaking hands cupping it round the base...Aric waited till the Omega had put the glass down before asking... "You've said you felt you had little to offer Aleksander at the time you made this suicide attempt... could you elaborate on why you felt that way?"  
Sherlock's long anxious fingers made short work of twisting the tissue in his hands into a scrunched ball.... "It felt like I'd never had anything much to offer him. He didn't need me or know me... he didn't recognise me or spend time with me.... I wasn't allowed to be part of his daily life...."  
"Objection!" Milne roared it and Sherlock visibly jumped.  
"Sit down Mr Milne... The witness will continue uninterrupted." The Legate's voice was authoritatively clear.  
Sherlock looked hopelessly sad. " I'd come to terms with the... facts of having him....as much as I could without seeing him to make better memories. I didn't feel that I loved him but then I never saw him to know him.... not really. We never did anything together. If Charles took me with him, when he went into the nursery, I was to be still and quiet and just watch mostly... like some stranger...while the nannies sat Aleksander on their laps and played games."  
Mycroft's eyes were fixed on what he could see of Sherlock's white face.  
Aric raised his pipe to his mouth before recalling he couldn't light it.... "Yet you are here ....asking this Court for visitation? Why is that Sherlock if your feelings are so ambiguous?"  
"Because they aren't.... because I realised they _aren't _...." Sherlock fought to explain while there was still silence to be heard in. "Aleksander is my son too. He isn't just an extension of Charles or of me...he has a personality.... his own unique personality." Sherlock stopped and tried to express himself better. "He started coming over to me.... he'd sit on my lap, nobody made him, he came and wanted to be with me to talk to me .... He's bright... really clever, he asks a lot of questions and he remembers what you tell him..." Sherlock fumbled for the tissues, blinded by scalding tears and knocked the box down onto the floor....the usher made to step forward but the Legate gestured him back brusquely......"He says a lot of things that sound like Charles but under that he is just a little boy.... just a sad, lonely little boy who has endless toys but nobody to play with and professional carers but nobody who loves him for him and not because they are paid to be there!"__

____

__

"Let the boy see his child....!" In the Omega section of the court the elderly Elite Omega who'd caught Sherlock's eye on the way into court was on his feet.... paper thin veined hands gripping the chair back in front of him. A second elderly Omega rose to his feet...."You can't call this justice.... a child has a right to a mother's love!"  
"SILENCE..... SILENCE IN COURT!...SILENCE!" The usher roared and bought his staff down on the wide oaken boards.  
Aric Weber stood in the aisle and let the angry tidal wave of noise and objection directed towards the two elderly Elite Omega wash around him.....  
The Legate thumped down his gavel....."Proceedings are adjourned until this afternoon when we will recommence. Your witness may leave the witness box, Herr Weber ! "  
" All rise for the Legate....All rise!" The usher's voice rang through the court.


	56. Close To The Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John brings Saul with him to the Bond Court unaware that the man is passing on any information he can glean to the opposition.  
> Sherlock reveals something about Riddick's past actions that Saul overhears.
> 
> John agrees to track down the two Elite Omega who stood up in the court and to take Sherlock to meet with them.
> 
> Alan Riddick finally hears about what Saul said to Sherlock while they were hiding out in Finland.
> 
> Magnussen and his legal team have a plan of their own to win over the Legate's favour.... No good can ever come of that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huic Ostiaruis....Latin for gate keeper.
> 
> Alan's Yorkshire words....  
> Gutsy....to be brave and have guts.  
> Baggin ....packed lunch
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Close To The Wire by Kant.

By the time John had met up with Saul, hailed a taxi across the city and arrived at the bond court Sherlock was nowhere to be seen and the large room lay empty.  
Saul hadn't been behind the scenes before. He was surprised to see how unchanged and unadorned it all was, with its simple whitewashed walls and wide planked oak floors.  
John led their way down the surprisingly narrow medieval corridors that led to the rooms made available by the Huic Ostiaruis to each lawyer prosecuting or defending a case in the ancient court rooms.

Since he was bringing a case for an Elite Omega Aric Weber had initially been alloted use of room number 2 with Milne directly across the corridor in room 1, which was equally ranked and overlooked the quad.  
Weber had taken a placid look about the spacious room alongside the elderly birdlike Huic Ostiarius..... noting its close proximity to the other lawyer, Milne, before suggesting he would prefer the smaller, quieter room 6 at the end of the winding corridor where he could smoke without affecting anyone else unduly.  
If the request had been somewhat unusual the Huic Ostiarius tactfully made no comment. Aric Weber was after all an Alpha of the Elite class and not to be questioned by a mere Beta.

John pushed the door open and went straight in. Somebody... probably Mycroft, had ordered food from the michelin starred restaurant nearby but nobody was eating .  
Aric Weber had a pipe smoking away and several open folders on the desk.  
"John.... Saul." Mycroft looked as though it had already been a long day. The eyes that acknowledged John were hooded and weary.  
There was no sign of Sherlock or Riddick.

"Everything ok?" John's eyes went to the closed door that led to Weber's small dressing room at the back of the chamber....Sherlock had to be in there....which meant Riddick was in there with him.  
John expected Mycroft to answer but Aric pushed the folder away and reached for a plate, speaking as he loaded it efficently with food... "This morning was challenging. Sherlock was agitated... I suggested they use my dressing room to scent and calm before eating."  
John's eyes went back to the closed door ..... knowing what was happening in there was only skin scenting hadn't eased his jealousy.

 

Above his own dark head Sherlock knew Alan's own breathing had slowed right down as though he was sleeping. The Alpha had tilted his head back against the wall , the top buttons of his shirt open and his tie pulled loose.  
There was a stoicism to Alan Riddick in body and nature that reminded Sherlock of a weathered stone wall . Beyond it was the unknown but close to its foundations lay shelter and sanctuary.  
Sherlock had pushed his face into the junction between Alan's exposed neck and shoulder and was sucking in breath after breath. The skin there was warm and thin and beneath it ran dense muscle and a steadily beating pulse.  
He touched his tongue to it.  
There was a faint taste of aftershave but through it ran the intrinsic scent of Alan's own skin.... The scent of pure cold Northern air and pine needles had faded in London's exhaust fumed air but at the very end of a deep lungful it was still there.  
Sherlock wasn't prepared for the urge to cry finding it bought him.... like a homesick refugee sent apples from a home they thought lost forever... the taste of the months they'd spent alone there was bittersweet on his lips.....  
He knew the second Alan felt the warm wetness of the tears on his lashes by the way the strong arms wrapping him round tightened.  
"Hey .... C'mon now, lad, none of that." Alan's voice was tender as his fingers slid up to the Omega's bond bite to caress the scarred skin. Unable to see Sherlock's face he took a guess at what could be wrong and tried blindly to put it right. "I was that proud of you today, Sherlock... every word you said in there. Gutsy... right gutsy." 

 

Sherlock was rinsing his face over the handsink when Alan came and stood in the doorway....he stopped, water dripping back into the sink from his still arched hands and waited for Alan to tell him what was wrong because he knew from Riddick's face something was.  
"John's here..... bought Saul with him."  
Sherlock sighed. "Urgh...great.... I'll have to pretend to like him."  
Alan's low chuckle was amused. "Not me lad, I'll be my usual dour Yorkshire self. He'll have to make do."  
Sherlock dried his face, met Alan's eyes and smiled. "You do know it only took me six days to see through that whole taciturn act you do. The first morning I was worried you'd be stern .... by the end of the week I already knew you were the kindest person there."  
"Worked me out that fast did you, lad?" Alan wasn't surprised. The boy's lonely, vulnerability had got under his skin from the start... it hadn't gone unnoticed, within weeks his team had cracked the first jokes about his different demeanor when it came to Sherlock.  
At the time he'd told himself somebody needed to be kind to the boy. A small word of praise here and there.... a joke .... anything so the boy'd smile and look less sad.  
Love had crept up on him slowly year by year.... now it was in every bone of his body like marrow. The loss of it'd kill him.  
It was a sobering thought.  
"What's wrong?" Sherlock was concerned instantly, seeing some change in the Alpha's eyes.  
Alan reached for him, unsure which one of them he was reassuring. "Now't you need to worry about..... Long as I have you I'm sorted."

Mycroft tried not to notice the evidence that Sherlock had been crying as soon as his brother sat down opposite him.... but the lucid brightness of the Omega's inky blue eyes and the pink flush caused by the handfuls of cold water Sherlock had splashed his face with told their own story to an observant Holmes.  
When what was to come in court that afternoon could only be worse there were no words to realistically help.  
Mycroft had forgotten what it felt like not to feel a unanswered concern for Sherlock wedged painfully beneath his own ribcage. He placed an empty plate in front of Sherlock by way of a hint. "You should eat, Sherlock."  
There were so many things that couldn't be said.... care for Sherlock's health and that of the unborn pup, an almost fundamental need to lend his brother some of his own endurance and strength through the giving of sustinance.... but under it all ran the need to know Sherlock could face this and make it through.  
He was relieved when Sherlock chose a small smoked salmon and dill quiche and ate it.

"You staying for the afternoon?" Alan used as few words as needed to get the thing said when it came to John, while Saul and he exchanged level stares over the table.  
John could hear the mistrust that layered the words. "Yeah. I took the afternoon off to be here and support Sherlock...." Behind John's words was the refusal to budge even if Riddick wanted him too.  
"Right...." Alan reached for a roast beef sandwich.... when he bit into it the strong taste of horse raddish filled his mouth. He grimaced.  
John saw the fleeting expression of dislike cross the man's face, misinterpreted it and set his jaw, ready to dig in and intent on staying put.

Sherlock slid into the empty chair beside Alan and gave a uncertain glance between the three Alpha, picking up on the tension instantly but unsure of the cause.  
"Don't eat the roast beef.... bloody horseradish in it." Alan took a loud, gulped mouthful of tea.  
"Gross." Sherlock pushed the offending sandwiches away from Alan down the table top. "The Elite Omega in Court today..... I want to find out who he is, John."  
"The guy who stood up?" John had heard all about it from Mycroft.  
Saul's eyes noted the interest. He said nothing.  
"Yes." Sherlock reached for Alan's cup of tea and took a mouthful .... seemingly unaware he had done anything so intimate in front of John and Saul.  
"Isn't your brother the man for that?" Alan asked bluntly.  
"No.... I want to find out why he did what he did.... why they both stood up in court.... I don't want him facing one of Mycroft's spy movie worthy black car abductions."  
"I think you'd find we can manage a sophisticated degree of subtlety, brother. Indeed much of our work for national security demands it," Mycroft said with polite resignation.  
Sherlock gave Mycroft a look that said he knew it'd turn out otherwise...." I don't want to risk having them taken to some bleak industrial site to be intimidated by you with your umbrella and your anonymous lackeys. No, it has to be John..... Will you do it, John? Just follow them and talk to them? I'd go but I can't."  
"Yeah....I'll do it, for you. If they come back." John said.

There was a silence around the table.... then.... "I really cannot see what is intimidating about an umbrella....given the weather it exudes a very English reliabilty...." Mycroft made his point, quietly indignant.  
Alan pushed his chair back and stretched his long legs out....his feet bumped someone's chair leg. "Never could see the point to a brolly myself...up North we just turn up a collar."  
"The point ....? Is surely obvious....to remain dry in inclement weather with a not insigificant degree of style," Mycroft said. He selected a finely sliced beef and horseradish sandwich from the plate...it really was delicious. He decided to enjoy himself. "Though I daresay a flat cap serves it's purpose up North among the whippets , Mr Riddick..."  
Alan flashed a grin at Sherlock and exagerated his accent ...."Wouldn't knock cap wearing wi'out trying it, handy place for a baggin on't way to work."  
Mycroft looked perplexed.  
"It's a packed lunch, " Sherlock said with a quick, happy smile and leant over to press a kiss onto Alan's temple .

John caught Sherlock's satisfied smile when the Omega got up to choose another one of the salmon tarts and made sure to stand up and follow him over under the pretence of needing a plate refill too.  
"What's going on with those two? Was that actually a conversation?" John said to Sherlock with his own smile.  
"I know....it's nice isn't it. They get along a lot better now. Alan says you only banter with someone you've good will with." Sherlock desperately wanted to ask why things had to be so tense between John and Alan.  
John bit into his sandwich fiercely.  
Sherlock hesitated and decided against asking.... "John, when you find out who the Omega in the Court today was..... I want to meet him....by myself....would you wait outside so I can talk to him?"  
John couldn't help himself.... he looked across the room at Alan Riddick, aware the man could hear nothing of what was being said. "Why not ask Alan?" he asked.  
Sherlock looked at Riddick with soft eyes as he spoke. "Because I'm worried Alan won't be able to do it. He's been my bodyguard for years. It's a whole other way of thinking. There's no way he'd ever risk me being out of sight while I'm pregnant.... I'd give him less than 8 and a half minutes before he kicked the door in and it'd be conversation over..."

Officially Charles Magnussen was still Sherlock's Alpha .... in every other sense of the word John knew Sherlock held Alan in the role..... Basic manners alone meant Riddick should know where 'his' Omega was heading and with whom....  
Sherlock may not know the unspoken rule but any common Alpha did....  
John knew the main reason he'd have agreed to take Sherlock without anyone knowing would have been as much to get under Riddick's skin when the Alpha eventually found out where Sherlock had been and who he'd been with, as it was to enable Sherlock do something that as an Elite Omega he couldn't go and do alone. "You'll have to run it past Alan and your brother first." John knew he could never use Sherlock's innocence about some things to get under Alan's skin.  
"Alan already knows .... it was his idea." Sherlock didn't seem to realise how unexpected that reply was.  
From behind Sherlock's back Saul gave John a look that clearly showed he thought Sherlock wasn't being truthful for a second it crossed John's mind that Saul could be right and Sherlock was lying again....  
Sherlock's eyes widened as though someone had just doused him with a bucket full of iced water. There was a mixture of frustration and affront in his voice that made John regret thinking it..... "Ask him if you want....If you don't believe me."  
"I'm just surprised he'd trust you with somebody else, that's all." Surprised was an understatement given how tense things were between the two Alpha and why .  
Saul stayed within eavesdropping range as he took a plate and choose some food.  
Sherlock looked back at Riddick before he spoke. "If he's worried about keeping me safe.... Alan can act first and think about it afterwards..... he knows that. That's why he thinks it should be you." Sherlock was desperate to convince John that only he could take him and that Alan was ok with it. "Lars is Omega and I thought it'd be fine.....it wasn't at first."  
Saul had his phone out , tapping a draft email that he had no intention of sending to anyone.... making sure he looked too busy to be listening in. Something had happened between Lars and Sherlock's tame gorilla.... but what?  
"He fell out with Lars...?" John was genuinely surprised given the warm hug Riddick had shared with Lars the last time they'd met.  
"When he thought I wasn't safe...." Sherlock barely explained and John left the subject alone , sensing that Sherlock wasn't comfortable talking about Riddick behind his back.  
"I'll take you then. Once I've checked it's ok with them and safe for you." John gave his word. 

 

Sherlock had gone back across to Riddick and settled on the arm of the man's chair, leaning into the Alpha with a slender arm on Riddick's broad shoulder.... Alan's eyes fixed themselves on John with a thoughtful stare.  
Saul tapped the last letters of his text and hit send.... within seconds his phone gave an incoming text alert.  
"Work need you?" John was used to it.  
"No.... I said I'd be here to give Sherlock another person on his side of the court and I will. " Saul gave it a second.... "So you're going to let Sherlock meet with that Omega from court?"  
"You heard that?" John had thought Saul engrossed.  
"Enough to work out he wants to meet them and find out why they made the gesture," Saul underplayed it. "Seems strange he won't ask Riddick.... Something must have gone on there, surely...."  
"Between Alan and Lars? Maybe." John sounded as puzzled by what that 'something' could be as he felt.  
"You could always ask him.... I doubt Sherlock will tell you, you know how blind he is when it comes to Riddick...." Saul left the suggestion sit. Knowing not to push it.  
"Lars? Yeah.... I may just do that." John said.

"Saul say anything to you?" Alan checked Sherlock was still ok.  
"Past hello? No.... and that's the way I like it." Sherlock admitted.  
"You never did say what went down between the pair of you back in Finland? Something did.... summat happened back in that craphole of a cabin. I'm not blind, lad....he said or he _did _something?" If it was 'did' , Alan was going to kill him.....__  
Sherlock sighed. "If I asked you to leave it alone... would you?"  
Alan really hated doing that. It went against every protective instinct... "If that's how you want it." The agreement was reluctantly given but he agreed none the less.  
Sherlock looked at him closely and saw it all. The conflict clear on Alan's face.... "You can't say anything to him.... or John."  
"Aye. Right." Alan left it at that.  
"He called you a gorilla...." Sherlock began.  
Alan snorted.... " I've been called worse. Decent family minded animals your Silverback gorilla."  
Sherlock hesitated.... " He insinuated that you were only ... how you are with me.... because we slept together...."  
"How I am...? How's that then?" Alan's voice had a dark edge.  
Sherlock's eyes flickered over the Alpha checking his self control. " I said you were kind... he thought that was some kind of trade off.... sex for kindness."  
Alan adjusted his jaw which was clenched down hard.  
"I said a few things back.... about how he didn't know you. He ended up saying that we were probably fucking behind Charles back all along.... " Sherlock held back at the last, choosing not to tell everything.  
Alan's far seeing blue gaze settled on Sherlock's face. "Let's have the rest of it, Sherlock .... You've come this far. Might as well let me know the whole thing."  
Sherlock found he wasn't even surprised that Alan knew him that well.... "Remember you can't say anything?" He double checked.....  
Alan gave a slow nod.  
"He had some things to say about my leaving Aleksander behind.... I asked if John knew what an idiot he was dating..... He wound up by suggesting I was fucking more staff than just you behind Charles back."  
Alan's cold steel stare moved slowly over to fix on Saul.  
"You promised. " Sherlock reminded him again and Riddick finally blinked, breaking his death stare and bought his eyes back to Sherlock.  
"Aye. I know I did. Don't worry lad.... You did right telling me." Alan reassured him. Saul would have to keep for a while yet...... 

____Alan drew in a slow breath and aimed for a distraction to cheer Sherlock up.... "So.... We're getting a dog. We going with a shelter mutt or a fancy pedigree?"  
Sherlock looked joyous for a second.... then crestfallen. "This is one of the couple questions isn't it? We aren't really getting a dog?"  
Alan eased back his chair....."I'm ruling nothing out," he said."Mebbe now's not the time.... but I'm open to the idea when it'd be right. Be nice for Aleksander.... every boy needs a dog to get himself into trouble with. That boy more than most."  
Sherlock's hopeful smile was so beautiful it almost broke Riddick's heart....

____

Aric had finished his adjustments when Sherlock came and leant on the table. "You look .... refreshed." Aric said honestly.  
"I feel better. Thank you for letting us use the room." Sherlock glanced down and read Aric's questions upside down as fast as if the writing were not reversed for him.  
Aric waited. Aware of what Sherlock was doing.....  
Sherlock said quietly. " This afternoon..... It's going to be about my daughter?"  
Aric couldn't judge Sherlock's reaction to that. The youth's face was a blank mask...the eyes however were not. He offered Sherlock some promise that soon things would be easier. "Once this is done and Milne has had his turn at questioning you can leave the stand until the bond severance case is heard. We'll hear from Aleksander, the recorded testimony and then It will be Charles turn to answer for his actions with yourself and the child and explain why he kept you apart as he did. "  
Sherlock looked up.... eyes a dark stormy blue."I want to see him try."he said.

 

Along the corridor in the bigger room with its roaring log fire Milne poured himself and Charles another brandy. Count Alexei declined with an airy hand, feet upon the old brass fender despite the blazing heat.  
"You are certain this will play to our favour?" Magnussen questioned sharply.  
Milne drank deeply. "I'm positive this will derail Herr Weber and help steer the Legate towards the right final decision."  
A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of Magnussen's mouth. "As long as my Omega is returned to me .... "  
"And reunited with the child of course..." Alexei's own smile was malicious. He knew well that was never the focus here."Let's drink to that."  
"Naturally.... To my son, Aleksander and to the beautiful Sherlock being reunited under my roof." Charles said coldly, his eyes glacial as he raised his glass.


	57. Quiet For So Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock relives the stillbirth of his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware this may trigger.  
> This update is bleak.... I wanted to finally give Sherlock a voice, a chance to tell Charles how he felt that day. ...
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Silence by Marshmello feat. Khalid..

As the court filled up Sherlock resisted the urge to turn his head and check if either of the two Elite Omega he wanted John to find were there.  
If they hadn't come back he couldn't find them to thank them and he'd never know why they had stood up for him, in a hostile court room, as they had.  
Not the time to worry about that.... concentrate Sherlock, he reminded himself inside his head.  
Stop looking for a distraction....  
Stop hoping there will be a hiding place.  
You have to do this.  
You have to do this.... for her.

Unusually the Legate addressed the Court before inviting Herr Weber to send his witness to the stand.... "Gentlemen, given the tragic circumstances I expect the evidence you will hear today to be respectfully received. Should there be a repeat of this morning's disruption I will instruct the Usher to halt proceedings and order the court emptied." There was a low ripple of muted comment from the Alpha side of the court and and the Legate waited for it to die away before he spoke again. "You may direct your witness to take the stand , Herr Weber."

"Ready?" Aric asked in a low voice.  
Sherlock nodded. No not really.  
Aric gave the Usher a nod .  
"Sherlock Holmes to the stand." The man's deep voice rang around the court.  
The absolute silence as the Omega took his seat felt so unfamiliar it was unnerving. The tremor in his hands was uncontrollable so he pulled the sleeves down to cover up and held onto them with his fingers. 

Sherlock fixed his eyes on Aric's tie as he'd done upon first meeting the man....  
It wasn't the same tie.... He'd changed it since the morning.  
Why?  
Now the pattern on the acid yellow checkered background featured a cartoon cactus in a sombero hat with what looked like a blue cloud over it.... as Aric drew closer Sherlock was able to make out that it wasn't a cloud , it was a speech bubble. He found himself squinting until he'd made out the words ..... ' YOU CAN'T TOUCH THIS."  
Sherlock smiled.... startled to find he could find anything funny given his desperate circumstances.  
Unseen by anyone else Aric gave him a wink.

 

The calm didn't last. It couldn't.

 

"Charles Magnussen was there at the birth ?" Aric stayed close to Sherlock as he asked his questions.  
"No. Charles was in Paris... Dr Hoi told him what was happening and he was flying back but it all happened so fast." Sherlock tried to talk about it in terms of bare facts.  
"Who was in the delivery room with you?"  
"At first just a doctor and the midwives then.... when they couldn't stop the labour.... the room filled up fast. A lot more doctors."  
"Alan Riddick was outside or inside the room for the birth?"  
"Inside," Sherlock admitted."He wasn't meant to be. He came in anyway.... for me. To help."  
"Help in what way?" Aric asked mildly.  
" I was in a lot of pain. Starting to panic. The pains came every few minutes. Charles wasn't there to say I could have any pain relief... they offered me some but I wouldn't take it. I didn't want to be blamed if I said yes and he didn't agree...." Sherlock's voice faltered and he fell silent.  
Aric reached out for the water jug and poured a glass for him.  
"Thank you." Sherlock said.  
Not for the first time the Legate was struck by Sherlock's quiet dignity. 

"You were on your own? Terrified to find yourself in labour and in severe pain?" Aric made sure those in Court understood Sherlock's mindset. "Alan Riddick was originally on guard outside the room?"  
Sherlock's intake of breath was audible. "Yes. I was crying out...I think...he heard." Sherlock looked at Alan for an answer.  
Alan nodded once.  
"At some stage he stepped inside the delivery suite?" Aric prompted carefully to be sure he wasn't accused of leading the witness.  
" The pain was so bad.... I didn't know he'd come in till he took my hand...." Sherlock looked only at Alan, "It helped , having him there. "  
" A familiar face ?"  
"Yes." Sherlock hesitated. " Alan... he was always kinder to me than anyone else. I felt safer with him there."

Aric regretted the need to probe but knew it to be unavoidable. "At this stage Sherlock were you aware a pre-term birth was inevitable?"  
Sherlock took a deep breath. " I knew it was too early. I was trying not to let my body do anything to make her be born...." Sherlock lost his words halfway through his answer and sat silent, seemingly unaware that he hadn't answered the lawyers question.  
Aric's tone was patient. "Nobody had told you that a premature birth was already unavoidable?"  
"I couldn't make sense of what they were saying or why....the pain was making it hard to speak or breathe.... they kept saying to push her out but if I did that the baby was going to die.... I knew she had to stay _in _me, they had to mean that....."__  
Mycroft inhaled sharply.... hating to see the raw pain in Sherlock's face.  
Next to him Riddick was starkly focused on Sherlock. John could hear the man's every uneven breath. He sounded close to tears.  
"They kept saying push.. even Alan was saying it... They were shouting it at me saying I had to do it. There was blood, I could see that.... a lot of blood." Sherlock gulped, helpless as the tears came. "My body wouldn't stop pushing down.... Alan was saying 'C'mon'.... like I was doing the right thing when I knew I was killing her.... I only pushed a few times and she was born...." Sherlock wiped two handed at his tears, futilely trying to keep up with them. He pulled down the cuff of his sweater and used that as the Legate gestured for tissues to be bought.... "Sorry..."  
"It's alright Sherlock." Aric said kindly.  
"No... it's _not _." Sherlock said and broke down.__

__

_____ _

 

Sherlock was deathly pale , his eyes a deep tormented blue.  
The Legate leant forward to see the Omega's face before he spoke to the tearful youth. "Sherlock.... are you able to continue?"  
"Yes. I'm sorry... it's hard .... remembering...."  
"You are doing very well." The Legate said, "Take a moment more to compose yourself." 

 

"When the baby was born Sherlock did she cry?"  
"No. Everything went quiet. She didn't make a sound. They took her over on the other side of the room.... doctors all around her....The alarm was going off.... I could only see a tiny bit of her side. I kept asking why wasn't she crying.... asking Alan.... he wouldn't let go or answer me and I knew then she was dying .... and she couldn't die alone, just with doctors.... she was only a baby....." Sherlock stared wordlessly at Alan.  
"You tried to reach the baby?" Weber gently pushed for the answer.  
Sherlock looked at him suddenly as though he'd forgotten where he was..... "I tried."  
"How?"  
"I turned round and went to get off the bed.... he caught me." Sherlock's voice was distorted by grief and pain.  
"Who stopped you Sherlock?"  
Sherlock's haunted gaze was locked back on Riddick.... "Alan. He had hold of me. I was fighting ...I kept telling him to let go , I had to see her.... She was my baby...." Sherlock stopped talking and ducked his head , hunched shoulders shaking as he cried. 

"Following the birth.... Your own life hung in the balance did it not?"  
Sherlock shrugged as though to say 'what matter'.  
"You'd suffered a placental abruption and needed emergency surgery and blood transfusions?" Aric waited so long for a response he feared Mungo would correct the Omega.... "Sherlock...?"  
Sherlock dragged himself back.... "Sorry."  
"When you were rushed to theatre the medical team were still working to save your daughter?"  
"Yes."  
"As you recovered from surgery you were told that your daughter had been stillborn?" Aric saw Sherlock flinch....  
"Yes... Charles told me.... but I knew. I just knew." 

Aric felt Sherlock's eyes upon him , he knew Sherlock wanted him to stop.  
"You'd suffered an agonising premature labour , your daughter had been stillborn and you were recovering from surgery following placental abruption....a life threatening medical emergency.... It must all have come as a shock?"  
"It didn't seem real . It was a nightmare but I couldn't wake myself up."  
"In the circumstances it is widely accepted that allowing grieving parents to spend as much time as they need with the baby they have lost can be of significant help in the healing process. Were you given the oportunity to do that?"  
Sherlock took a short shaky breath and looked towards Charles Magnussen..... "No."  
There was a low muttering around the Alpha side of the court.  
The Legate bought the hammer down at once. "Gentlemen.... if you do not remain silent you will be asked to leave."

Aric stood patiently until the Legate signalled he should continue. "Sherlock....how did you feel physically?"  
"Like a car had hit me .... everything hurt. My chest ... around my heart was agony." Sherlock tried to take a deep breath in and sobbed... unaware the Legate and Court could hear that clearly due to the microphone sited on the front of the witness stand.  
"And mentally...?"  
Sherlock shook his head mutely.  
Mungo cleared his throat gruffly and the Legate raised a hand to warn the other Alpha against interrupting.  
"Dark..." Sherlock's voice was haunted by the memory of that pain he'd felt that day. "I wanted my baby. To see her."  
"You asked if that could happen?"  
"Everyone .... I asked everyone.... Where is my baby?.... Even Charles."  
"And what answer did you receive?"  
"That she was gone..."  
"Gone...?" Aric needed Sherlock to say more.  
"That there would be a post mortem and she would be incinerated after that...." Sherlock's voice was stripped bare as the tears came in a scalding flood. "I wanted ... I wanted for her _not _to be dead.... I wanted to see her and tell her sorry.... I wanted to at least hold her once...." Sherlock forced himself to face Charles.... "You didn't have to see her but you had no right to keep her from me. I asked you... you could have said , yes.... How would it have hurt you to let me have that? To let me have something to remember , even her footprint. Why did you say no to everything I asked for....?"__  
Every head in the court turned Magnussen's way to see the man's response.  
"You forget yourself. How dare you question my authority! Have you forgotten who I am!" Magnussen's voice was livid with supressed rage.  
Sherlock gave a bitter wounded sound.... as, despite all warnings from the Legate the Alpha side of the court erupted into a cacophony of dissent and divided opinion.

____

Aric shielded the Omega as the youth gulped at the glass of water he held with violently shaking hands.  
"You still regret that you were denied the chance to say goodbye?"  
"I'm angry. Still angry. I have to live with a decision that was wrong and thoughtless and cruel .... I wanted to see her but I never can. It wouldn't have hurt anyone to bring her home .... the garden was big. We could have found a place for her.... He left her there. Charles left her there to be incinerated like she was nothing...."

"Christ... hasn't he told you enough? How much more do you want from the lad?" Riddick's voice was guttural, raw emotion closing his throat.  
"Mr Riddick.... Let Herr Weber do the job he is here to do. " The Legate's warning was surprisingly understanding.  
Riddick shook his head in open disgust.  
To Alan's right Mycroft Holmes was stricken and John's brown eyes were glued to Sherlock, concern for the Omega's health clear on his face .

" We are nearly finished," Aric turned back to Sherlock..... "When you were released from hospital had any counselling been arranged to help you recover from this tragedy, Sherlock?"  
"No." Sherlock's voice was muted.  
"You became severely depressed within days of the birth?"  
"Yes... Dr Hoi said it was hormonal. He gave me anti- depressants."  
"Did they help Sherlock?"  
"No....Nothing helped. I wasn't just depressed, I hurt so much I couldn't stand it..."  
"You made two attempts to end your life?"  
"I took an overdose. It didn't work. I tried again, with Charles razor...."  
"You cut your own wrists ....What was your thinking at this time?"  
Sherlock's exhale was ragged. "That I needed to die. She was on her own.... I could be with her...she'd have someone."  
"You were in a very bleak place."  
"Grief hurts.... it physically hurts and it doesn't stop. It's exhausting." Sherlock's eyes found Alan.... "I couldn't eat.... I couldn't sleep... I wanted to stop feeling anything. I wanted to be dead."  
"You are here today, Sherlock...I'm glad to say, supported by family and friends. How did you find your own way out of that dark, suicidal state of mind?"  
"Alan helped me. He talked to me about the baby.... he'd seen her. That she had dark hair like me.... When I say he was kind people look at him and they think I'm mad because they don't know him ....like I do.... but he was so kind to me after I lost her. Nobody else wanted me to talk about her but he always let me , he always listened. I only got well again _because _he did that.... he was there for me."__  
Magnussen's low snarl was full of loathing.  
Milne laid a steadying hand on his clients arm to remind him where they were.

____

"Mr Milne ....your witness." The Legate waited for the other lawyer to rise.  
"Given the circumstances and the emotional distress of his Omega...Mr Magnussen waives my right to cross examine Sherlock on this issue ....against my advice."  
Weber leant foward to look towards the other side, his affable face suddenly set hard.  
"What the Hell...?" John couldn't hold his shock inside.  
The Legate gave them a warning glance. "Mr Magnussen.... It is a caring gesture that few would make given the circumstances... I must ask you one more time... Are you 100% certain you wish to make that decision and lose the oportunity to challenge any of the statements we have heard Sherlock make today?"  
Charles stood up.... "I am . Out of concern and care for the mental health of my own Omega.... Despite all this court has heard today.... Sherlock was bonded to me and as such I am entitled to act in his defence as other's today have failed to do!"  
"To fucking Hell with that! You lying piece of heartless shite!" Alan swore loudly.  
The thumping sound of the Legate's gavel pummelled the court into submission. " Mr Riddick ....whilst I empathise with your distress.... I will not tolerate your lack of respect or your language in my court. I hold you in contempt.... You will be removed to the holding cells until such time as I offer you a chance to apologise... Should you fail to do so when you come before this court you will face your own charges of contempt... Take him down."


	58. London Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is busy when Sherlock knocks his whole day sideways with a phone call...  
> Sherlock's homeless network starts with just one man....
> 
> Alan gets two visitors....which is pretty unusual for someone whose meant to be in solitary.
> 
> Mycroft Holmes solves the mystery of The Vanishing Younger Brother with a little bit of help from Greg and John.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be another double update week ...I've been sick all weekend and this is as far as I've been able to get with editing today.
> 
> Tam is from Newcastle .....he speaks Geordie English. It's massively different but one of the things I love about the UK are all the dialects and accents.  
> NFC....Newcastle Football Club!  
> Give us it 'ere.... Give it too me.  
> Howay, divvin be daft. Ye dinnae wanna draw eyes to us.... Come on, don't be stupid. You don't want people to see us.  
> Y'areet bonny lad?....You alright handsome lad?  
> Ya canae...you can't.  
> Nae shortage ....no shortage.  
> Haddaway man....means you don't believe it.
> 
> Blue the track is Home ( feat. Tom Grennan.) by The New Blxck.

Greg was laying flat on his stomach on a corrugated iron shed roof , trying to reach what he was pretty sure was a wallet that belonged to the victim who lay in a congealed pool of blood on the pub patio behind him, when his phone rang. Sherlock would have had it already, with those long musician's fingers of his...... the best Greg could do was to almost touch it with a finger tip if he broke his back trying....  
Glad of a second to rest his aching spine and muscles Greg rolled over onto his side before taking the call. Sherlock's name flashed up...."This had better be good." Greg said.  
"I'm in a toilet....." Sherlock said inexplicably. "At the Court."  
There was something different about the Omega's voice.... it was blurry and thicker than usual, like he had a heavy cold.  
"What's wrong?" Greg asked straightaway. He had to have been crying.  
"I'm climbing out the window....."  
"WHAT! SHERLOCK NO....!"

"My legs already out on the ledge.... Stop distracting me. I need you to tell Mycroft I'm safe where I'm going ..... not too worry searching for me." Sherlock sounded breathless. Whatever he had said in the middle was obscured by the loud siren of the ambulance arriving at Greg's crime scene  
"Sherlock ...no! Go back inside.... " Greg was desperate to call Mycroft. "Where the heck is Alan? Or your brother? Or John ? "  
"The Legate locked Alan up.... for contempt of court... I have to concentrate....I don't have time to talk. Will you tell Mycroft what I said?"  
"Sherlock...." Greg had to get him to see sense.  
"Shit. there's some very ugly looking baby birds here on the window sill..... I have to step over them... "  
" NO.....Sherlock..... Wait!"Greg's heart was in his mouth as he scrambled down off the shed roof , scraping his shin and ribs in the process.  
The phone disconnected abruptly.  
CRAP!

"You there...."Greg grabbed the first forensic guy he saw."On the shed roof... it looks like a wallet..... Sally, I have to go. Take over..... Mycroft pick up your bloody phone....Pick up! Pick up.... Damn it Myc pick up!"  
"Mycroft Holmes...." There was an impatient, sharp edge to Mycroft's voice that sounded like he had been interrupted mid raging argument with whoever was there with him.  
"Where's Sherlock?" Greg wasted no time on manners slamming the car door and pulling out into traffic.  
"Currently? Using the lavatory ...." Mycroft said with irritable precision.  
"Check.... Go make sure he's in there .... right now!" Greg put his foot down on the accelerator and whacked the blue light up, cars began moving aside out of his way.  
"I assure you he is quite safe.... We are on the first floor...." Mycroft checked anyway.  
Greg heard a door bang then another then another.......  
"Sherlock?..... Sherlock...?" Greg heard no answer then Mycroft shouted for John.... "John! .... The window. He's been taken....." The shock and instant dread of realising Sherlock was missing saturated his voice.

John wedged his torso as far out of the window as he could get.... his wider more muscular body wouldn't go any further."There's a fire escape further down.... they must have used that, it's been pulled down." There was a cracked egg on the pavement beneath one of the three window sill ..... it could just as easily have been Sherlock and his unborn baby laying there broken. John felt sick to his stomach at the thought.  
"Mycroft!" Greg yelled into the phone to get the man's attention.  
"What!" Under the stress Mycroft lost his impeccable manners. "Gregory....what?"  
"He wasn't taken... he climbed out himself. I'm on my way in. Don't do anything. He said to tell you he's safe where he is ....."  
"Safe....!" Greg had never heard Mycroft turn the air a very aristocratic shade of blue before. 

 

Looking out at London from inside a chauffeur driven car was nothing like being down at street level among the traffic or the people. The city was noisy and it smelt. Petrol fumes belched from every idling or busy vehicle exhaust to pollute the air and above the crowded pavement the fast food outlets with their lurid neon signage, sent food rich air out into the sky via greasy vents.  
Sherlock followed the huge medieval wall around the court.  
There were so many people ... all blank faced and set on where they were heading, blind to anyone else.  
In an unused gateway a man with a dirty beard and soiled clothes was hunkered down on his haunches with a paper cup.... begging every hard faced passer by for money. "Quid for a cuppa .... Quid for a cuppa." Sherlock saw the way anyone smartly dressed took a deep inhale and held it until they were safely past the man without stopping .... as he drew closer he could smell why.... the reek of sweat and dirt was enough to make anyone gag.  
There were a lot of pockets in Alan's jacket but Sherlock knew which he kept money in and he checked them all sytematically .... as he drew level with the beggar Sherlock's fingers closed around £20.... no, it was £50 , even better.  
"Quid for a cuppa." The words were routine.  
"Here...." Sherlock ignored the plastic cup with its meagre brown change at the bottom and held the banknote out.... human being to human being. The green eyes that somehow managed briefly to meet his own were a lot younger than the huge dark beard suggested and Sherlock was quick to stand up, instantly nervous as he realised the man was an Alpha.  
"Giv us it 'ere lad."  
Give what there? The accent was really hard to understand... but being called lad made Sherlock pause a second longer than he'd meant to, unaware he still held the cash in his own hand.  
The fingers that reached out and took the money had finger nails that were black with dirt and knuckles inked with the letters NFC. . 

A cluster of lawyers in black robes and wigs coming towards them made Sherlock duck his head and move on, fast. None of them had managed to make eye contact but the risk was there.  
What was he thinking. Alan had told him often enough in Finland.... 'First rule of staying unspotted.... Don't draw attention to yourself... get off the main drag and out of sight.'  
At the first chance Sherlock wheeled left and disappeared down a grimy box filled alley full of overflowing bins.  
Behind him the rough sleeper's head had turned to watch.

John stood up....Sherlock's shattered mobile phone with its cracked back and screen in one hand and tilted his head back to stare up at the perilous route Sherlock must have taken. "Christ Greg.... if he'd fallen...."  
"I'll see if I can get anything off it. See if he was texting or calling anyone." Greg wasn't hopeful.  
"Who'd he call? He only knows us." John said.  
"It's worth a try." Greg knew from experience to overlook nothing.  
"Allow me," Mycroft held out a hand, his face already set with a deep seated dread. "I can have a result within 15 minutes."  
"I'll phone Martha.... see if he's showed up there," John said.

 

Unaware of what that was happening above him, in the isolation of a locked room below the court, Alan Riddick was fuming with himself.  
God knows how Sherlock was taking this disaster! Left on his own after the day he'd had.  
Jesus, what if the lad wasn't alright! What if this bloody stress bought on the baby?  
"You ruddy great berk. Had to open your big mouth didn't you ....Born thicker than shit... ARGHHHH....Fuck it Alan , when will you learn!!" The resounding boot he gave the heavy metal door didn't even budge it in its frame.  
Nobody bothered to come and see what all the noise was about.

Sherlock wasn't used to crouching down for this long. Already his back was aching and he'd been needing a pee for the last hour... the cold was only making it worse.  
The door opened again and out came a kitchen porter in his black and white checkered apron, lugging a huge steel bin full of waste food.  
Sherlock watched the kitchen door closing and counted how long it took.... he'd have to get closer to stand a chance of catching the handle before it slammed shut.  
That meant hiding behind the huge wheelie bins themselves.  
The door opened and one of the chefs came outside and sparked up a cigarette.  
Sherlock watched its embers glow in the fading light every time the man inhaled.  
"Frank...." The door opened again and the man who'd been smoking turned his head in response to his name being called.  
Sherlock watched him throw the still burning cigarette away in a high arc before going back inside.

Behind the giant wheelie bins the ground was damp and there was a faint smell of rotting food.  
Sherlock tried to ignore it.  
He wasn't sure exactly when he realised he could smell more than that....  
In his pocket Sherlock had his lock picking kit... he closed his cold fingers around the handle of the tension wrench and held it like a weapon even though his hands were shaking. "I know you followed me....I have a knife."  
The richly accented Geordie voice came from the dark void between the two wheeled bins.... "Howay, divvin be daft ....Ye dinnae wanna draw eyes to us..." Sherlock saw the discarded cigarette the chef had thrown away glow as the homeless Alpha he'd given money too out on the main street took a long drag. "Y'areet bonny lad?"

Mycroft's phone sounded almost constantly with contradictory updates....  
"We have a sighting Sir! On the street outside of the court... heading towards the tube station" ....  
"Nothing."  
"We checked the area on foot ...." Greg tried to make that sound reassuring. "Mycroft if you want to use Police dogs, I can get them here.... while the trail is still fresh."  
Aric Weber shook his head to remind Mycroft the answer to Gregory's offer had to be no. "If news that he is missing reaches Magnussen's ears he may try to find Sherlock before we do. As long as he believes him safe within my chambers the threat is less."

"You're sure this door is closer than the kitchen one?" Sherlock was counting barred windows in his head trying to work it out but the pressure in his bladder was making thinking about anything but peeing impossible.  
His new homeless friend, Tam, leant closer and Sherlock almost gagged before he controlled it.  
"Smell a bit ripe for ye is it now?" Tam jeered."We cannae all be sweet as roses."  
"You smell more like manure," Sherlock said without thinking.  
Tam's wheezing laugh ended in a coughing fit as he spat thick yellow sputum onto the ground between them. "Say it as ye see it .... why don't ye."  
"Sorry." Sherlock hated apologising. "My mouth is a lot faster than my brain sometimes.....It's just.... I really need a pee!"  
Tam's grin showed a couple of missing teeth.... "Pick a wall there's nae shortage.... and mind your shoes."  
The relief as his bladder emptied was almost as good as orgasm Sherlock found to his surprise.

In the dark it took longer to pick the lock than Sherlock could manage comfortably....his back was killing him by the time he felt the last pin push up and his wrist was aching from keeping a constant downward pressure on the tension wrench.  
"That's a handy wee skill to have." Tam was in awe.  
Sherlock stood up and stretched with a groan and saw Tam's eye's drop knowledgably to the small distinct rise of his pregnant shape.  
"That's why ye want in so bad... the bairn?"  
Sherlock nodded. Unable to speak suddenly . The need for Alan closing his throat with raw emotion.  
"Best get on then...." Tam said gruffly and took a step backwards to fade into the dark.  
"Wait...." Sherlock couldn't see the man anymore. He spoke into the black anyway.... "My name... it's Sherlock Holmes .... 221b Baker Street."  
"What of it?" Tam's voice was further away than Sherlock had guessed.  
He had to be fast. "The dead Elite Omega boys.... the one's they keep finding along the Thames.... I'll pay money to see the next body....before the Police do."  
Tam's wheezing cough of a laugh followed by a hacking spit made Sherlock start nervously. "Haddaway man .... How much money"  
"£50 ..... Is that a yes?"  
There was no answer.

Alan had been in here hours. It was hard to tell how long but the sky had gone from dim to dark and across the city sirens sounded.  
The lad would maybe be in bed now.... Alan knew he wouldn't sleep on his own.  
He'd be alone when Alan should be there to take care of him.  
The weight of not knowing Sherlock was being cared for pressed Alan down like a weight. He slid the hatch back....."Hey! .... Hey!"  
"Shut up in there."An isolated shout echoed from further along the corridor where the other holding cells were and Alan heard the door clang shut.  
Prison would be like this. Miles between him and Sherlock.....  
Not one single hour with the lad in days.... months.... years.  
Alan let the hatch drop back as reality hit him.  
Silence covered him like a shroud.

 

Hours later.....One of the two long electric light in the ceiling of his room flickered twice with a buzzing sound and went out.  
Alan heard a faint noise and checked the floor in case it was a rat.  
Someone was outside the door.  
Nothing. Then a scraping at the lock.  
Another sound... metal on metal.  
The lock.  
Someone was coming in.  
Alan got to his feet....Ready.  
Fists clenched.  
There was nothing in here he could use.  
Whoever it was they weren't going to take him down without a fight.  
He'd kill with his bare hands if that was what it took before they took him from Sherlock.

The door swung open.

Kneeling in the doorway was somebody Alan knew.  
"Ahhh Jesus Christ.... lad!" Alan had never been so shocked and at the same time so bloody relieved in his life.  
Sherlock got to his feet stepped inside and pushed the cell door closed with his arse, shutting himself and Alan together inside. The lock clicked shut loudly. "This is a break in, not a break out.... in case you were wondering," he said awkwardly.  
Alan knew he was gawping in disbelief , slack jawed and speechless.... "What the Hell are you doing down here, Sherlock?"

"Neep and me love what you've done with the place. That whole mimimalist cell look is so on trend this season." Sherlock said with a bright fragile confidence that didn't fool Riddick for a second. The lad's eyes were huge, way too inky blue and intense. He was stressed beyond words.  
"What the Hell?.... How did you get down here?" Alan's shock found new vocal expression in disapproval as he took in the state of Sherlock's clothing. The knee of one of his expensive jeans was smeared with broken egg yolk and what looked like bird shit and there were some grey grubby feathers stuck amid the muck. "Where's Mycroft? Where the Hell is John?"

Sherlock ignored the questions like he hadn't heard any of them. "You are still my bodyguard you know. Technically.... Charles never got around to sacking you. Neep and I discussed it and we both feel it has to be an 'in the same room' role. For you to do your job properly and protect us... we need to be here... with you. Same room.... I'm not going. You can't make me." Sherlock added defiantly, chin lifting stubbornly. He looked close to tears. Brittle.  
Alan had a vivid, flashback of Apple Dore and the very first time Sherlock had tried facing him down. Frail and incredibly vulnerable. He remembered what he'd done too....hefting the boy up under one arm like a sack of potatoes.... the breathlessness in Sherlock's voice from the pressure around his ribs.... He never wanted to hear that fear in Sherlock's voice again and know he put it there. "That so, is it? Best you come over here then... so I can make sure I've both of you... feeling protected."  
Sherlock came straight into his arms... safe home. Close and pushing closer. Alan had never felt the Omega's heart beating so fast outside of the bedroom. "It's alright now. It's alright.... I've got the pair of you."

 

Alan had him tucked in close to the rough wall. Shielded from the room, with its small metal viewing hatch in the door, as much as he could by his own larger body. Covered by as much of the blanket as possible.  
Sherlock already looked a little better. Or maybe Alan just hoped he did.  
"Is that bird shite? On your knee?" Alan couldn't for the life of him imagine how it'd got there.  
Sherlock glanced down....  
"Want to tell me how it got there?" Alan asked.  
Sherlock shook his head. Nope  
"Want to tell me how you got here?"  
Sherlock shook his head. Nope.  
"Or why you got here?" Alan asked softly.  
Sherlock shook his head even as he spoke. "They can't take you away from me. I've told you.... it can't ever happen. I won't let it. I can't be without you."  
Riddick felt his gut twist...guiltily.

"It's my own stupid fault I wasn't there for you, lad. He played me for a fool but I went and proved him right. He knew I'd do it." Alan let his regret and humiliation show.  
"You said it for me because you love me and you aren't a fool." Sherlock said. "Mind games are Charles thing... he's better at it than almost everybody. Don't underestimate yourself. You never made a mistake that let him close in on us in Finland until I did and mine nearly got Lars killed."  
Alan ran a wide hand over Sherlock's shaved head and down the back of the Omega's fragile skull to the start of the huge bite at the base of it. "I made plenty of my own mistakes. Who knows if he'd have found the cabin in the end anyway."  
Sherlock lowered his head against Alan's shoulder, exposing the whole bond bite with a natural easy submission.  
Alan's broad fingertips moved down to that irresistably tattered skin with its network of deep scars..... "I've a temper still... I thought I'd a better grip on it. My Aunt Helen always said it'd be the death of me someday."  
Sherlock's voice was muffled, his face pressed into Alan's skin. "Who is this Aunt Helen? Is she the one with the baby that never stopped screaming so she cracked and put the pram and the baby in the coal shed? Or the other Aunt who had to get off the bus in Skipton and walk three miles home because all the other passengers couldn't stand her baby screaming any more?"  
Alan's mouth twitched at the corners. "No... this is the one with the bairn who had the loudest lungs midwife said she'd ever heard in thirty years of delivering."  
"Neep will be louder," Sherlock said confidently.  
Alan found he was chuckling instead of dreading it like any sane man should be. "Aye , reckon he might." 

 

"Safe..... Safe....." Mycroft was pacing , repeating Sherlock's ridiculous assertion to himself over and over.  
They'd have to leave the building soon as the Chambers closed for the night and Sherlock was still misssing.  
Safe how could he be any such thing....  
The city was full of dangers......  
Safe..... _How _Sherlock? How?__  
As the door opened Mycroft span around. "Nothing," John said , he looked exhausted, his brown eyes almost black in his tired face. "I'm going to try the park again."  
Mycroft stood aimlessly there fighting for control over his disordered thoughts.  
How could Sherlock say he'd be safe? How?  
The door sounded behind him. Gregory's face looked more exhausted than John's. Mycroft saw the instant care for him in the Omega's eyes.  
"He's clever. Too clever for his own good. He'll have a plan." John tried to help." You don't think he went to find the Omega from the Court himself? "  
"He'll have holed up somewhere .... without Alan, he won't go far...." Greg knew how strong a pseudo bond was.  
Mycroft stared at them both weighing both opinions and suddenly he saw it all so abruptly it shook him to his core.... " That's it..... I know where he is! "

 

Alan lay in the darkened cell and breathed in the sweet , warm scent of Sherlock's hair.  
The Omega lay heavily against him, worn out by stress and exhaustion, inside him Neep kept moving , Alan could feel the scattered pattern of his kicks against his own body.... but Sherlock was so tired he didn't move once as Alan laid his wide palm over the baby till it was still.  
He should tell Sherlock. He knew that. But how did you tell him you mebbe couldn't be there for him or for Neep.  
Inside his head Alan heard Mycroft's angry voice saying...."You've fostered this emotional reliance between you." Maybe that was true and he had ..... but truth was it bit both ways.  
Alan knew he needed Sherlock every bit as much as the lad needed him.  
He'd lain here once before and held someone he loved while they slipped away from him.  
Billy's loss had almost destroyed him.  
God knows what Sherlock's would do to him.  
Alan held his head back , careful case his throaty breathing or his tears fell and woke the lad.

 

"Mr Riddick....?"  
The lower voice at the hatch startled Alan.  
Sherlock moved closer in his sleep.  
"Who are you and what do you want with me?" Alan kept his voice down and stayed where he was over in the dark.  
No name was given.... whoever it was spoke again instead. "Prefer not to say.... you understand, I'm sure...."  
Elite....that was unexpected.  
"Your situation in Court.... today. Most regretable. " The voice paused...  
"Me mouthing off?"  
"Quite so. Try to rein it in , there's a good fellow. Only so much we can turn a blind eye too ....shame too have to lock you up like this again. The Holmes boy.... isn't without friends.... friends whose support matters....." The voice fell silent.  
"You sure about that are you? They seem in short supply to me." Alan's voice was gruff.  
"That rather depends who they are old chap.... Leave it with us. That'd be best...."  
Alan waited in the dark but the voice didn't speak again .

 

Barely twenty minutes later a frosty faced and insistant Mycroft Holmes had the elderly Huic Ostiarius up from his bed to shine a torch in through the cell door hatch and breathed a worried sigh of relief to see Sherlock curled up on the narrow mattress with a wide awake Alan Riddick laying alongside him......  
"You took your time." Riddick said."We were just getting settled in for the night."


	59. Fit Right In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock faces the Team after exiting the court via the window ....  
> Greg and Mycroft wash up together.
> 
> John and Sherlock talk and it brings both closer as friends .  
> Mycroft and Greg may have missed their date but neither is giving up on salvaging something from the chaos of the night....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so patient for an update. Pneumonia had me in bed for a week solid so I'm behind with everything when it comes to editing. Sorry!  
> PG Tips is a brand of teabags ....pictures of the PG Tips monkey can be found online...
> 
> Track is Radioactive by Imagine Dragons.

Sherlock stormed ahead of John on long, lean legs ..... going up the stairs two steps at a time while John gritted his teeth against the pain in his thigh and leant heavily on the bannister as he followed, a sense of loss flaring futiley inside him for a fluidity of movement he would never have again. "Stupid leg..." he muttered darkly.  
"John?" Mycroft hesitated .... torn between the need to follow his brother and good manners.  
"Just go on up ahead of me," John muttered, hating to be seen struggling.  
Mycroft was gone in an instant. Tactfully silent.  
Greg knew better than to ask if John was ok..... but he did it anyway. "I'll put the kettle on. It's been a long night.... I can ask Sherlock for a hot water bottle, would it help if you get some heat into the muscle?"  
John inhaled sharply through his nose and counted to ten inside his head as the sound of Mycroft and Sherlock bickering filtered down the stairs.... "Tea would be nice, Greg" and a perfect leg would be even nicer....  
One of the things John appreciated most about Greg was how quickly and easily the Omega took a hint.... "Right." Greg said without fuss and went on up.  
John sighed and heaved himself up around the corner onto the half landing.

By the time Greg appeared in the doorway Sherlock had taken his shoes off and thrown them both at Mycroft's head.  
"Sherlock!" Mycroft was appalled.  
Sherlock unzipped Alan's jacket and hurled it wildly in Mycroft's direction.... coins scattered across the carpet and rolled in all directions. "I was fine with Alan!"  
"Fine?" Mycroft made the word sound absurd in itself. "Fine....!" He drew it out and made it preposterous.  
"Yes FINE!" Sherlock yelled immoderately."FINE ....FINE ..... FUCKING FINE!"  
"The effects of Alan Riddick's constant company upon your vocabulary are lamentable!" Mycroft said with a haughty precision.  
Greg almost laughed out loud.  
Sherlock scowled , walked up and over the coffee table and vanished into the bedroom.

Greg ran the cold tap for a few minutes before filling the kettle. Aware even as he did it that he had slid almost without thinking into a nurturing Omega role .... the role of someone who made tea and fetched biscuits.  
His brothers would have laughed at him and asked him if they should call him mum.  
He'd never wanted to be trapped in the traditional Omega roles of homemaker, his career given up for a life of weekly food shops and school runs.....  
A relationship .... yes.  
Children....that part he wasn't sure about.  
What did Mycroft want?  
The sound of the fridge door opening took him by surprise and bought his head sharply round. Mycroft had a plastic bottle of milk in one hand....  
He looked strangely incongrous doing something so domestic in his bespoke suit.  
Greg wondered which of his inner thoughts had showed in his face as Mycroft looked at him astutely.  
"Shall I get the cups?" Mycroft asked thoughtfully, aware that Gregory suspected he was being deduced. It was too revealing to resist. He'd had no idea Gregory felt so strongly about traditional gender role allocation....

John had subsided into the armchair and was rubbing at the tight, cramping muscle of his thigh vengefully. "Damn leg."  
Sherlock emerged from his bedroom door, clad in pajama's and a huge dressing gown that drowned his slim frame and paused in the corridor watching John while staying quietly unseen, before disappearing back into his bedroom.

"PG TIPS ..." What a nonsensical name. Mycroft frowned at the monkey on the side of the box. "I fail to see the connection between a chimpanzee and tea." Why wasn't Sherlock drinking a decent loose leaf tea? Teabags.... for Heaven's sake!  
"Don't throw the box away," Sherlock's voice came from the doorway. He still sounded annoyed. "There's a free monkey toy.... Alan's collecting tokens for it. For Neep."  
Mycroft rotated the box to find an image of a cartoonish monkey toy in a knitted hat smiling benignly up at him from a toothless gape of a mouth that reminded him of a trout. It struck him as a faintly grotesque first companion for a baby.  
"You don't have to like it.... it's not for you." Sherlock stalked past and reached for the kettle.  
"I've made tea.... " Greg said calmly, ignoring the attitude.  
"I'm filling a hot water bottle for John's leg," Sherlock answered and flicked the power switch down moodily.

Mycroft stood and watched the water in the glass kettle boil furiously.... the contained fury as the bubbles broke the surface reminded him of Sherlock's current mood. "Sherlock...."  
Sherlock's back remained resolutely turned to him.  
"You simply cannot spend the night in a Court Cell."  
Sherlock filled the hot water bottle carefully and screwed the stopper up so tightly it'd probably never be unscrewable again. "Yes I could. I was fine...." Sherlock glared as he said the word.... daring Mycroft to comment. "I was sleeping. I was fine where I was .... with Alan."  
"You weren't fine," John called through from the sitting room.  
"Yes, I was!"  
Mycroft's barely supressed tut of disapproval was audible in the small kitchen.  
"O stop tutting, Mycroft.... You sound like Lady Bracknell again... all you need is a large matronly bust, some pearls and a hat!" Sherlock snapped out "Catch!" as he strode past, throwing the hot water bottle onto John's lap as he went by.  
John made a sudden startled grab for it before it hit him in the balls.

Greg and John were trying hard to stay out of it as the Holmes brothers disagreement raged back and forth.  
"I care about your wellbeing and that of your unborn child. Something you clearly neglected to consider whilst engaging in an act of quite ridiculous folly and clambering along a window ledge!" Mycroft's tone was clipped. "You could have slipped and fallen...."  
"Could have.... but didn't!" Sherlock was fuming. "It all turned out to be just fi....."  
"If you say 'fine' again...!" Mycroft warned, his frustration clear.  
"You'll what, brother?" Sherlock stared back in splendid defiance, the effect of which was only slightly marred by the chocolate biscuit he'd was dunking rebelliously in his tea.... all too aware that Mycroft would never do such a thing. "Send me to my room with no supper? You aren't Mother, even if you sound like him!"

"There really is no need for all this .... drama." Mycroft gave a supercillious smile....."I wonder does Alan Riddick know the circuitous route that bought you to his cell? If not I can always enlighten him... with suitable photographs of course. The window to ground distance really would look all the more impressive if photographed from above to show the deadly possibilities of a fall .... Your choice of companion in this absurd escapade was ....unhygenic.... at best! "  
Sherlock's dunked biscuit broke off and sank beneath the surface of his tea.... it felt symbolic. He hadn't realised Mycroft knew about that.

Sherlock fished the broken biscuit out of his tea with a teaspoon and placed it in a mushy heap on his saucer.... aware of Mycroft watching him with a fastidious distaste.  
"Look...." John began, only to hestitate when Sherlock's lucid blue eyes looked at him accusingly as though to say....'You too?' "You could have fallen Sherlock.... you have to be able to see that, yeah?" John appealed to the Omega's common sense.  
"I'm a dancer.... I have better than average balance." Sherlock wasn't giving up.  
"You're pregnant... having a bump effects anyone's centre of gravity." John said reasonably, fighting down the urge to shout that he knew was fear for Sherlock's safety masquerading as anger. "If you'd fallen.... what then?"  
Sherlock heaved a huge dramatic sigh.... "Fine .... I'm not going to do it again.... I'll use only doors and approved exits for the rest of my life and I'll call for emergency services before ever climbing anything higher than a kerb .... Happy now?"  
"Not so much." John said his own annoyance and exhaustion at Sherlock's refusal to listen finally showing through as his voice rose. "We've spent hours looking for you but don't feel you should appologise or listen to anything we have to say! We're only your friends and family. We have to be Alan Riddick to get you to listen.... that's still how it is? Despite everything?"

Sherlock's head jerked up. Stung....."No and I did apologise ! I got you a hot water bottle for your leg because it was hurting you! It's not my fault you are too much of an idiot too realise I did that because I feel guilty for making you walk about for hours ...." As Sherlock's words died away he looked horrified to have spoken them .  
"You know most people don't call someone an idiot when they're apologising," John said. "Generally speaking it goes more like....'I'm sorry. I was wrong. You were right. I'll try and listen to you in future'.... More actual apology and less insulting my intelligence."  
Sherlock snorted as though he'd never heard anything more banal. "Well if you want me to lie and pander to your ego shamelessly just because you were born Alpha."  
"What I want.... What we all want," John said, his jaw tight with tension. "Is to keep you safe....but hey make that harder than it already is, won't you Sherlock!"

Sherlock stood up, swamped in the huge dressing gown , sleeves covering his hands he looked and sounded like a guilty child caught playing dress up in grown up clothes.... " Well what I want .... if anyone cares .... is Alan... and.... Neep's happier when he's here too!"  
Mycroft lost his patience next.... "I assume you will be choosing an actual name for the child or do you plan on it going through life with a vegetable based noniker?"  
Sherlock's fast, sarcastic smile showed a lot of teeth. He was angry Greg realised suddenly. "Of course not.... something suitable .... Caligula is the front runner.... but Nosferatu has a good ring to it.... and Genghis is very masculine."  
Greg saw Mycroft raise a hand to press several fingers to his temple.... he didn't blame him. "This is getting out of hand," he said. "Sherlock.... you want this baby... so why the Hell are you risking everything by pulling a stunt like that when you have to know what a slip could cost you and Alan?"  
Sherlock hesitated.... then pushed past Greg and vanished into the bedroom without a word.

John waited till 7 a.m then tapped at the bedroom door.  
"I'm asleep. Go away, Mycroft." Sherlock's muffled voice came through the wood.  
John opened the door instead. "Can I come in?"  
"If you want..." Sherlock was sat on the far side of the bed, back to the wall. Shadows from the lamp leaving most of his face in darkness . "You don't understand ," he said and he sounded bitterly disappointed. "You don't know what it's like to be me. To be Omega."  
"Then talk to me." John said simply. "We're friends."  
"Alan told me we were friends once....back at the cabin.... I asked him 'Is that what we are?' because he called me love all the time." Sherlock remembered it like he was there, unaware of how his voice and face had softened now he'd leant foward into the light. "It was more than friends... even at Apple Dore.... neither of us said it aloud for a long time.... but I knew how he felt...."  
John knew he'd stayed silent for that second too long.  
Sherlock's voice was full of a quiet sadness. "I know you think it's wrong how I feel about him."  
"No.... thats not it. I don't have the right to tell you how to feel." John fought to explain. "It's _his _feelings I don't agree with." John swallowed down around the thoughts he wanted to say.... that Alan must wake up pinching himself that he got so lucky, given what he'd been a part of.... "You'd never even have met him if it wasn't for Magnussen."__  
"You can't know that. Nobody can. Maybe I would have." Sherlock's pale hand moved to cover Neep as the baby moved inside him. "If you talked to him.... got to know him...."  
John hated knowing his face had betrayed his reluctance to do that by seeing the wounded confusion in Sherlock's face.

"Why? Why not?" Sherlock rushed the words out. "Why does it have to be so impossible?" It sounded stupid now he'd asked it out loud.... naive even. "He loves me , John."  
"We all love you Everyone who knows you," John said awkwardly.  
"It's not the same. You know it's not." Sherlock pleaded for understanding. " I needed him. I told you all that's what I needed....but none of you were listening! I didn't want to leave Court without him. I shouldn't even be here when he's still there. He'd never leave me behind."  
"Sherlock.... you can't just waltz down to the cells. He's in there for contempt of Court...." John tried to explain.  
"You just don't get it! I just wanted to stay and sleep there... I can't even say I'm going to lay down with Alan because I need to be near him! Nobody will stop you because you're Alpha but if I did that someone will think they have a right to stop me because I'm Omega so everyone gets a say in my life!"  
"Alan's big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself for a night!" Finally John couldn't hold the words back. "You're pregnant! You need to think about you!"  
"Oh? Thanks for pointing out the obvious John .... I hadn't noticed I'm pregnant at all!" Sherlock snapped back. "And no he isn't and no I can't!"

____

"What do you mean when you say you can't think about you?" John asked morosely.  
Sherlock heaved an exhausted sigh. On the verge of giving up speech altogether.  
"Look ...." John said. "You could be more reasonable, you know?"  
Sherlock looked up."That's just it.... I can't," he said. "I can't control it. It's a bond. I can't turn it on and off like central heating.... hot one minute and cold the next. It's constant and if he's not here with me it drives me mad. I need to be in the same room....."  
"A pseudo bond is like that," John was no expert but he knew the facts from an Omega's viewpoint. "Jealousy.... insecurity ..... mood swings.... without an actual bond bite between you all those emotions can feel pretty overhelming. Add in a pregnancy , hormone levels changing.... the court.... all the crap you're going through.... That'd be hard on anyone." He was sympathetic.  
"It's not a pseudo anything." Sherlock rejected the word.  
"You know all that means is an emotional bond without a physical bond bite, right? I'm not belittling how you feel." John tried to remember how much of the lessons about relationships and sexuality at school Sherlock had actually been in the room for but couldn't.... back then he didn't remember Sherlock being this difficult either. "We learnt it at school. You don't remember the lessons?"  
"No...." Sherlock said with a disconcerted frown. "I used to remember everything and now I forget basic things , like what I got out of bed and went into the kitchen for. I've started telling Alan before I leave the room so he'll remember once I'm there but its not foolproof...yet. He still can't remember a chemical list for longer than five seconds."  
John had to smile. Sherlock was just so rattled by his own sudden ineptitude. "That's the infamous pregnancy mush brain , Sherlock. It's hormonal."  
Sherlock sighed. "Everything can't be hormonal."  
"Well that is," John said.

Mycroft took off his jacket , hanging it carefully over a chair back, rolled up his sleeves and washed up the tea cups since Sherlock clearly didn't plan on emerging to do it.  
"You don't want to go in and check Sherlock's ok?" Greg asked with a nod to the disagreement both had heard through the wall.  
Mycroft sighed. "It could only make matters worse. Sherlock will calm down when he has had his say and not a moment before. It's best to remain as passive as possible."  
Greg reached for each cup and dried it, aware they were working with a methodical, homely harmony. Domesticity didn't seem so bad when you did it alongside the right Alpha. It reminded him..... "Shame about our jazz night."  
"Indeed.... most regretable." Mycroft looked up, bubbles coating his hands and the cup he was holding.... knowing he sounded formal he strove to give more.... "I was looking forward to .... spending the evening together.... the dinner and the music....and the dancing..... " Mycroft knew he wasn't entirely thinking about dancing when he imagined their bodies moving together. He hoped the faint flush on his cheeks hadn't given him away.  
Neither noticed the voices they'd been hearing through the wall had stopped.  
"Me too...." Greg's eyes were rich with warm amber lowlights. Something vulnerable underneath Mycroft's studied formality always drew him in. He reached into the sink and plucked the cup from Mycroft's hands , setting it aside in the sink as he interwove his fingers with Mycroft's soapy wet ones. "But it turns out drying dishes with you has its good points."  
"Who would have thought it." Mycroft agreed.  
Greg leant in for a kiss....it was so good he stayed for a few more, hands pulling Mycroft close....  
"Don't let me stop you snogging." Sherlock's aggrieved voice came from the doorway behind them. "Make the most of it since neither one of you is locked up away from his bondmate and his baby for a whole night....like Alan is. "  
Mycroft took a step back, guiltily.  
"There are washing up bubbles all over the back of your shirt," Sherlock added disapprovingly.  
Greg could have groaned.

"Sorry,"John said. "Sherlock just wanted some breakfast....He'll be a lot less of an annoying git once he's eaten"  
"I am not a git!" Sherlock was indignant.  
"Hopefully..." John added , as though any transformation from git to non git was still in doubt. "You may even get an apology off him...."  
Sherlock pulled a face. " I shouldn't have gone out the window.... although to be fair I did tell Greg and it's hardly my fault you and he ....."  
"Sherlock....going off point a bit there mate." John said affably.  
"Oh...?" Sherlock said with a smug look John's way." So... the apology. I can't be blamed for the window thing... not really. John said that. It's hormonal. We should probably just forget about it and move on... definately without telling Alan the details."  
John was pretty sure he hadn't said most of that.  
Mycroft raised his brows. Unable to discern any half decent apology as such. "Hormonal?"  
"Pregnancy hormones," Sherlock got a teaspoon and unscrewed the Nutella jar before remembering the nut ban. "It's a free pass apparently, all sorts of things are no longer my fault.... John said so and he is a doctor so if he says it then it's right." He put the Nutella jar down sadly and looked for something he could still eat. "I am sorry though.... if you still need me to say it?"  
Greg started laughing. "John.... you've unleashed a monster."

"Are there actual nuts in Crunchy Nut or just nut flavoured bits that I can eat?" Sherlock shook the box optimistically.  
"Aye. It's packed full of nuts and sugar ... best put that down lad. The last thing Neep needs is a sugar rush, he'll be kicking you inside out all morning." Alan's voice came from the doorway. "Plain egg on wholemeal toast is better for you."  
John's head turned fast. None of them had heard Riddick come in.  
"Alan! They let you out!" " Sherlock was round the table and over to the Alpha at speed. catching Alan's face in his hands to pull him down for kiss after kiss...... fast and needy.  
"Wanted their cell back I reckon. Turns out the Legate likes an early start to his day." Alan didn't kiss Sherlock properly in front of people often, bar the odd peck on forehead or cheek.... guarding what lay between him and Sherlock now with a fierce protective privacy.... but he did it now. The real deal.... an Alpha kiss, heated and hungry.... and when he broke it Sherlock gave a low moan and sagged against him, as Alan slid his hands down Sherlock's back to his hips and pulled his body in harder.  
The sound of that Omega moan made John breathe in hard and hold it, fighting against his own arousal.  
The steady look Alan gave John, as he raised his head and saw the expression on the other Alpha's face, was measured and aware.... " I think your toast just popped up, John" he said matter of factly.

On the pavement outside Greg watched John's back as the Alpha limped away, stiff legged towards Oxford Street, with concern as he turned up his own coat collar. He wished he'd had the foresight to wear a scarf. Lack of sleep was making him cold.  
Mycroft's chauffeur eased the car alongside them as they walked reluctantly towards Greg's car.  
Greg found himself giving the sleek black car a longing glance. Plush leather seats, buffertingly warm heating.... Mycroft's car was a whole other experience compared to his own rust heap of a motor with its dented door and pile of parking tickets.  
"I have some excellent sausages from an artisan butcher in Shoreditch," Mycroft paused, hoping he'd said enough to tempt Gregory. Unsure he added... "Tamworth pork that was reared on a small holding in Wales.... Or we could breakfast at my club. I have rooms there that are very private".  
Greg smiled...."How private are we talking about?"  
"Very...They meet my personal specifications....Highly secure," Mycroft said as a sphinx like smile curved the very corners of his lips. "As is my home, of course."  
"Sherlock proof?" Greg had been interupted more than enough times for one day. Hopefully now Alan was home annoying Mycroft would be the last thing on Sherlock's busily hyperactive mind.  
Mycroft looked doubtful. It was Sherlock after all... you could never be quite certain enough. "In as much as anything can be," he answered reluctantly.  
"Lets put it too the test anyway. Breakfast at your place it is." Greg said flinging caution to the wind. He'd never been inside one of those Elite Alpha clubs before but the idea didn't appeal as much as being alone with Mycroft in his own home.  
Mycroft looked pleased as he opened the car door for Greg.

As they settled into the car a horrible thought struck Greg.... What if he was reading Mycroft wrongly? "When you say breakfast.... just 'breakfast' or is more than that on the table?"  
Mycroft was startled enough by the question to stutter.... "I.... I .... I...." How had he failed too make the romantic possibilities amply clear. Had he read Gregory wrongly? "Anything you'd enjoy," he said and immediately wished he could swallow his own tongue. Whatever was he saying? To be so suggestive when he had no real experience of what he was offering. He cleared his throat...."I would be amenable.... That is....My practical experience is a little .... lacking...."  
Greg took it upon himself to hit the button and slide the privacy screen up.... "When you say lacking?"  
"One experience .... at University.... With an Omega." Mycroft knew his tone showed how little he'd enjoyed it.  
Greg longed to ask why but knew those conversations were best saved for the bedroom. Instead he offered Mycroft some reassurance through admission..."It's the first time for both of us with each other. We'll work it out as we go along....If that's slowly its not an issue is it?"  
Mycroft looked relieved.... then worried that he'd showed that relief and it may have been recognised for what it was. "I find you very attractive Gregory." Very.  
Greg pressed the length of his thigh against Mycroft's.... "Then there's nothing we need to worry about....I feel the same way about you."  
Mycroft's thigh pressed back, muscle to muscle.  
"How long is this car ride?" Greg asked smokily.  
"Ten minutes."  
"Spend it kissing?" Greg hoped so....  
"God.... Yes!" Mycroft said.


	60. Needle In A Haystack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Mycroft encounter a very simillar problem.... with very different reactions.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a small mention of come play in this update...blink and you'll miss it. I figure Sherlock's curiosity would always get the better of him.  
> I'm not going to give anyone the whole safe sex lecture ....
> 
> Shifting POVs throughout this update....hope it makes sense!
> 
> Nutter... A crazy person.  
> Iced bun...a sweet ,white iced bread roll. Delicious and best bought at Gregg's....
> 
> The track is Royal Highness by Tom Grennan.

Rule one of any seduction technique.... find an excuse to be alone together.  
It sounded so simple and were you not Mycroft Holmes it probably was just that.  
Three steps inside Mycroft Holmes impressive front door, into his equally impressive entrance hall and the Butler had appeared seamlessly as though he glided noiselessly everywhere inside of walking.  
"Good morning , Sir. Bracing morning .... wind from the Artic, I understand there may be a unseasonable fall of snow.... I've taken the liberty of lighting fires in your private suite as well as the morning room...."  
" Thank you," Mycroft handed over his umbrella and divested himself of his leather gloves, smoothly before removing his coat.....  
"Mr Lestrade, a pleasure to see you again, Sir." The butler's voice paused as Mycroft waited politely and Greg realised he was meant to hand over his coat to the man as well, even if it was only his old work coat and had some odd stain on the right sleeve that he'd picked up months ago.....  
"Dectective Inspector Lestrade and I will be working in my private study...." Mycroft made that sound entirely professional. "We are not to be disturbed."  
" Sausages." Greg mouthed behind the butler's back.  
Mycroft's mouth twitched as he fought against an inappropiate and dangerous urge to laugh. "Detective Inspector Lestrade.... Gregory..... will be joining me for breakfast later.. If you'd tell cook we'd enjoy some of those delicious sausages?"  
"Very well, Sir. I'll let cook know."

Mycroft manged to hold his own laughter back as he climbed the densely carpeted stairs alongside Gregory until he saw the Omega's shoulder's were shaking with laughter....  
"Sausages indeed...." said Mycroft helplessly as he opened the door to his own private rooms and suddenly they were alone together in the expectant quiet.  
Greg's smile was infectious, good humoured laughter fizzed in his eyes. "You can't use a classic pick up line like come see my wonderful my breakfast sausage is and not show a bloke how good it is, you know..."  
"There is of course the possibilty you'll be somewhat disappointed..." Mycroft was worried about that... given what had happened last time he'd attempted this.  
Greg stepped in closer.... so close Mycroft could count the golden and amber flecks that scattered through the man's rich brown eyes. He found himself taking breath after breath as slowly as he could , aware that inside his suit trousers his cock was already growing harder....  
"So could you be...I'm no pretty young thing anymore. I've a bit of a beer belly....I don't hit the gym unless I'm forced to for a police medical....and one of the socks I put on this morning has a hole in it."  
Mycroft struggled to shape an answer, all too aware of the intoxicating scent of Gregory's warm skin and the closeness of his body ...."Gregory you're... fine."

FINE!.... Mycroft despaired with himself....a Cambridge graduate and suddenly his vocabulary was limited to the same inadequate word that Sherlock seemed so inordinately fond of....  
FINE!... God in Heaven! How on earth had Sherlock's woeful choice of words emerged from his own mouth? Why now, when finding the right words for the overwhelming emotion he felt mattered so much, had they all scattered to the four corners of his world?  
Greg's hand landed on his arm, thumb rubbing against the skin that lay hidden beneath the suit.... a warm reassurance as his body pressed closer.... "Don't over think it... I'm here... you're here with me....that's all it needs...." 

Sherlock lay in the bath and stared down at the small dry island his belly had become in the water.... "Do I look more pregnant to you?"  
Alan turned round.... "More?" What kind of a tricky question was that?  
Sherlock made a spreading balloon gesture above his belly with both hands.... "Bigger.... Do I look bigger to you?"  
"Hard to see under all the bubbles," Alan knew to try and avoid answering any questions about bump size or shape Sherlock asked him. Bigger. Smaller. There was no right answer." You sure you poured enough bath mix in there?" he teased.

There was a splashing sound as Sherlock hauled himself up to his feet and stood dripping and naked. "Now you can see. Yes , I'm fatter or no I'm not?"  
"Jesus.... don't stand up in the bath....you'll go arse over tit!" Alan dropped his scissors into the sink and caught hold of a bare and very foamy skinned Sherlock. "Sit yourself back down..... Careful, it's slippery with all that bath stuff you put in it!"  
Sherlock smiled at the affectionate grumbling.....noticing that Alan hadn't taken his hand out of the water and was currently spreading bubbles and warm water up over the dry rise that was Neep. "Well.... am I? Bigger?"  
"Aye you're some bit bigger.... bumps almost on a level with your middle now....Still tidy, mind. There's no real change to you... it's all baby."  
"We won't be able to hide it much longer," Sherlock felt his stomach twist at the idea of Charles knowing.  
"Aye....reckon not." Alan picked up the sponge and poured a little of the bath oil onto it .... "Sit yourself foward a bit. I'll do your neck...."  
Sherlock loved the feeling of warm oiled water flowing down his back as Alan soaked up more and more water , placing the sponge on top of Sherlock's bond bite and squeezing it as he circled it over the scarred skin.  
"Nice...?" Alan said , loving the way the water ran in rivulets down the long , indented line of the lad's spine.  
"Better than nice...." Sherlock sighed blissfully as Riddick did the whole thing over again.....  
"Love this bit of you right here....." Alan leant over and placed a kiss on that wet, hot, oiled skin. "And here...." He pressed a kiss on Sherlock's neck, his beard tickling...."And here's pure beautiful..." His words were hot on the skin under Sherlock's ear.  
Sherlock's voice was soft, almost sleepy as he tilted his head so Alan would kiss him there again ...."You're biased....You think all of me's beautiful."  
"Not denying it. All of you is," Alan admitted."Shuft round and lean back against me, lovely lad."

Sherlock's damp head landed against Alan's shoulder.... Alan moved his hand and the sponge around to the front and trailed water over Sherlock's chest gently while stealing a look at Sherlock's nipples.... He wasn't about to say it but the lad looked a bit puffy there too.  
Between Sherlock's crossed legs his cock floated in the water.... pale and beautiful. Alan's hand moved down to brush against Sherlock's cock under the water.... letting the touch be the question.  
"Lost the soap have you?" Sherlock shook with quiet laughter.  
Alan grinned. Shameless as Sherlock's cock stirred against his fingers. "Found something much better , I reckon...."

Alan soaked hot oiled water up and pressed the sponge over the beautiful little notch at the base of Sherlock's throat.  
The relaxed sigh Sherlock gave said it all before he turned and pressed his mouth to Alan's neck..... "You're beautiful too." His voice was smudged at the edges with love.  
"Me? Beautiful? That'd be the day. Even my own mother wouldn't say that." Alan grinned. "She'd say I was like the moors.... rugged looking. I'm no stunner like you , lad."  
One slim, long fingered hand cupped Alan's cheek and slid round to pull the Alpha's head down...."She was wrong.....I know all the ways you're beautiful." Sherlock breathed the words out softly, lips almost touching Alan's as he trailed a hand over Riddick's wide chest slowly....pec to pec, before tracing a heart with one long finger over Alan's thumping heart beat. "Here most of all..."  
"Sherlock...." Under the teasing drift of those long fingers Alan's voice was vibrating with arousal.... his thighs were killing him in this low crouched position but he couldn't care less.... kissing back hungrily as Sherlock's wet fingers slid up into his hairline and stroked his neck, soaking Riddick's tanned, bare skin as water droplets from Sherlock's wet arms ran down the Alpha's back and chest.

Sherlock shifted around in the huge old bath with a surge of hot scented water, felt about for the long chain of the plug and pulled it out, feeling the hot water start to sink down around his legs instantly as he stood up. Alan steadied Sherlock's sharp hipbones to support him as he stepped out onto the bathmat and found his hands frozen there as he swallowed hard, staring down at the little streams of water chasing each other over the porcelain perfection of Sherlock's body to drip from the Omega's slim cock . "Sherlock... God, look at you...You beauty."

The boy's mouth, with it's plump pink lower lip and above it that swollen cupids bow, had long driven him mad with eddying desires.... now he pillaged it, tongue chasing Sherlock's own. Under the white towel slung low round his own hips he was rock hard and leaking as Sherlock's hand found a gap and slipped inside to cup and weigh his balls with stroking fingers before closing round his throbbing cock, fingers tugging movable skin against his hot shaft. He heard himself pleading and laid a hand on the tiled wall to steady himself as Sherlock's thumb followed his string, caressing up closer to the head.... "Sherlock... Please, lad.... I won't last."  
"The towel, Alan.... Take it off," Sherlock said and pulled it undone as he stepped closer, cock brushing against Alan's own ....

It had been years since Mycroft had seen another man's bare skin in the filtered early morning light of his bedroom.... despite all Greg had said he still looked incredible sat on the end of the bed, masculine and solid with the merest hint of weight low down over his hips.  
Mycroft's hands moved to his own cufflinks ....twist and undo....twist through and undo. Hands barely shaking.... He moved to his waistcoat..."Good tailoring, hides a multitude of ".... he stopped speaking as Greg straightened up from pulling off his socks and looked right at him...."body flaws," he admitted.  
"Yours or mine?" Greg was on his feet. stood bare chested and balanced right in front of Mycroft who hadn't even started opening his shirt buttons yet..... The intensity in Greg's eyes made it impossible to look away....  
"Mine. You look....incredible." Mycroft swallowed to clear the shameful tightness of Alpha desire from his voice. " Underneath the suit....I'm.....not sure what you're expecting but..." He hesitated lost for the right words...  
"The only thing I'm expecting to find underneath all these clothes is you...." Greg's hands moved to undo Mycroft's heavy silk tie for him and pulled it away from under the man's collar.... "I want you, Mycroft. Flaws and all....You're more than enough."

Alan lay back on the bed.... and groaned at the sight of Sherlock on all fours between his outspread legs. Sherlock kissed his way down Alan's body, lips soft against skin and muscle , tongue sliding hot over skin and the dark short cropped hair at the base of Alan's cock.....  
"Don't come yet...." Sherlock wrapped hand round shaft and slid it up towards the head and Alan grunted and spread his muscled thighs wider. Sherlock dipped his head down and pressed kisses , climbing Alan's cock with kiss after kiss till he reached the head....  
"Lad...!" Alan's voice was guttural, thick with desire and layered with need....  
Stretched out like this all the power of the Alpha's body was on display like a statue, girded with muscle and delinated with solid bone and the hard cock standing between his legs was an offering Sherlock worshipped with tongue and lips and hot panted breath against pulsing skin.....  
"I'm close...." Alan knew he was.  
"No...." Sherlock muttered against the knotted base of Alan's cock and Riddick shook to feel the hot panted gust that each word left him with...." Don't ..."  
One wet lick of the tongue up under the shaft and Alan's hand's fisted the bedsheets his grasp hard and desperate.  
A second long slow suck, cock head rubbing tongue and Alan's rumbling arousal filled the bedroom..... echoing up from his chest like a lions low growl on a sun filled day."F...fuck...k! "  
"Don't...." Sherlock warned him not to come yet again as he stroked Alan's wet cock against his satin soft cheek, inky eyes fixed on the Alpha's face. "Don't do it..."  
"O Christ...." Alan fought it back, balls drawn up tight already.... as the need inched up his cock higher and higher.... "Sherlock.... I have to..."  
Sherlock caught hold , low down right at the base, fingers putting pressure on the shaft just above the knot...."No".....he said , one white hand pulling Alan's cock back a little and letting go suddenly, giving the Alpha a jolt..... "Breathe...."  
"Can't...." Alan gasped the word out. Right on the edge of splattering his own belly. On the bed his hips bucked up uneasily.....  
"Can...." Sherlock said and there was command in his voice as he caught Riddick's cock round with fingers that circled in tightly, his rest of his hand pushed flat to Alan's muscled groin and lowered his mouth .....

It was hard to breathe ..... air came and went from his lungs with fiercely panted gasps of unexpected pleasure....against his white skin with its scattering of pale freckles Gregory's own skin was satin smooth and heated.  
"Mycroft...." Greg gasped the word out.  
Mycroft's mouth was on Gregory's , hot damp breath shared between them while his hips thrust upwards....hard cock tenting his Saville Row trousers. On top of him Gregory shifted his body, hands gripping the back of the bed's headboard, rocking backwards and driving fowards and each thrust of their hard cock's against each other through clothing was tantalisingly brief and almost painful before the next one came.....  
"Gregory...." Mycroft slid both hands down to cup the round swelling of Gregory's firm arse and hung on....hands relishing in the feel of tight muscle bunching beneath skin and subcutaneous tissue....  
He vaguely knew he'd braced his heels somehow , dug deep into the mattress and was thrusting up to meet Greg's thrusts, needing more and still more as an electric surge of unbearable lust left him gasping for air..... and suddenly it was all over as his body jerked and emptied inside his own trousers , hot and sticky and humiliatingly adolescent as he came in spasm after spasm..... 

In Sherlock's bed tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets Alan panted desperately.....between his legs Sherlock stared up at him challengingly , that beautiful perfect mouth centimeters from the head of Alan's rock hard cock and licked it once like he was licking icecream on a summers day...."Not yet....Alan....don't."  
Alan watched that pink tongue flick over the head of his leaking cock, had time for one last stare at the flushed, licked pink of Sherlock's lips and knew urgently that he was done for...."Sherlock....! Fuck...!" No sooner had he forced half of the warning out than his mind went blank and his cock twitched once and emptied , hot, erratic spurts of come hitting Sherlock as Alan's broad hand flailed for Sherlock's fingers and grabbed hold.... 

In both bedooms there was a second of silence....

Alan stared speechlessly down at the white of his own come splattered over Sherlock's perfect lips and lovely face...... Oh Christ , what had he done!  
Sherlock looked as wide eyed as a cat caught in a sudden deluge.... wiping his mouth clean with a delicate finger.....  
"Christ.....I'm sorry, lad.... " Alan was stumbling over his apology when Sherlock lifted one cum smeared finger up to his parted lips .....  
Left with nothing to say Riddick wisely shut up.....  
"Well.... that was ..... There was more mess than I thought....I severely underestimated your ejaculation pattern. It's very random..." Sherlock said honestly, completely unconcerned. He squinted upwards...."Is it in my eyebrow? It feels like it is...."

Alan thought he probably shouldn't laugh given the lad had made some crazy experiment in ejaculation direction out of him but he was buggered if he could summon the will power to stop himself.... After the edging Sherlock had given him his heart was still racing and his limbs felt heavy and weak .... He was helpless to stop chuckling as he wiped at Sherlock's eye brow and perfect face with a corner of sheet.... "Aye I've glazed you like an iced bun...." he said weakly.  
"All I need is a cherry on the top," Sherlock smiled tolerantly. Unphased.  
"You little nutter," Alan said lovingly. " My crazy beautiful.... sexy nutter."

Greg took a minute to realise what had happened , warned by the sudden mortified stillness of the body under his own.  
He stopped moving.....  
"Mycroft?"  
There was no shared laughter.....the sudden silence was filled with Mycroft's shameful humiliation...


	61. Ten Good Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock knows something happened between Mycroft and Greg ....  
> The Cat From Shrek makes an appearance ...kind of!  
> A whole lot of texting is going on ....which helps nobody.....  
> Alan gets roped into one of Sherlock's schemes....  
> There's a surprise for Sherlock at the Court...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hare brained scheme is a crazy plan.  
> A letch...is a man who makes clumsy passes at anyone he finds sexy.  
> Fags....slang for cigarettes.
> 
> I'll be away for Christmas in Yorkshire so the story will be on a weeks break....
> 
> Next update .....Sherlock finally meets and finds out more about the Omega who have come into an hostile court to support him....and Aric Weber produces a surprise witness that damages Charles image still further....

"Have to pee...!" Sherlock's voice came from right outside the door giving Riddick only a seconds notice that he was coming in before the door handle went down and the door opened.  
Alan wasn't even surprised .... he'd given up on locking the toilet door months ago and had already lost count of the number of conversations he'd had with Sherlock while taking a slash or shaking off drops. It didn't even seem all that weird anymore.  
Sherlock had his own reasons for everything he did and Alan knew what this bathroom visit was all about.... even he could tell when a couple had fallen out about something and Mycroft and Greg showed all the signs of a couple who'd had a row. "Looks like your brother's in the doghouse," he remarked casually as Sherlock snuck into the bathroom behind him and closed the door.  
"That's what I think.... I've been trying not to deduce anything but, really if Greg's going to make it so glaringly obvious by wearing a sock inside out, I can't be blamed if I just know things.... it happens by Osmosis...." Sherlock flushed the toilet even though nobody had used it and perched himself on the lid of the laundry basket, long legs sprawled out in front of him. He kept his voice down low. "Mycroft's really upset....he would never normally wear that pocket square with that suit... There's stubble burn under his neck that I'm fairly sure would match Greg's stubble pattern, although I'd have to do a facial imprint mask with latex to be 100% certain...."

Alan slapped some aftershave balm on either side of his neck , he'd no idea what Osmosis bloody was... he was only half listening, remembering the way Sherlock's pale cock had floated in the water until it had filled and hardened inside his hand.... The sting of the aftershave bought him sharply back to earth just in time to realise he had almost been signed up for one of Sherlock's crazy plans....  
"....So you'll talk to Greg if I talk too Mycroft?" Sherlock was saying as if it was all already agreed.....  
"I'm staying well out of it and I reckon you should do the same." Alan said firmly.  
Sherlock frowned unable to see why Alan was saying no."But.... he's my brother and all he needs is a little help to fix this ....." Maybe this reluctance to get involved was an Alpha thing? Alan and Mycroft were both Alpha after all.... while Greg was Omega. Maybe Alan felt he'd be able to fix another Alpha like Mycroft more easily.... "We can switch people.... you have Mycroft and I'll have Greg?"  
"Rather slice my own ear off Van Gogh style, than give romantic advice to your brother" Alan said truthfully.......  
"But you're good at advice...." Sherlock opted for flattery to get his own way.  
"Still nope...." Alan said cheerfully, aware of the manipulation.  
"Plus he'll be family soon when we bond..." Sherlock's second plan involved making helping with Mycroft sound like a dutiful family obligation....  
"All the more reason I don't need to know 'owt about what goes on in his bedroom." Alan said practically.  
"You've been getting on a lot better....he's starting to almost like you..." Sherlock went with approach number 3.... appealing to Alan wanting to build bridges.  
Alan grinned...."Almost....huh?....Best I do now't to stuff that up then....being as it's looking so promising...."

This was proving harder than expected. There was a small silence while Sherlock made sure he concentrated all his feelings into one single point of lucid tearful emotion.... He gave a huge heartfelt sigh and stared wide eyed at Alan, all too aware of the effect his inky blue, dark lashed gaze usually had on Riddick.... time for the newest weapon in his emotional armoury....the 'Cat From Shrek'."  
Alan grinned back .... wise to him already.  
"It's not working is it?" Sherlock still checked, just in case.  
"Not a hope..." Riddick said, the grin still lingering on his face. Much as he doted on Sherlock there was no way in Hell he was agreeing to have 'the talk' with the lad's frosty brother! "They'll work it out lad. A fool could see they fancy the pants off each other."  
Sherlock's worried sigh this time was 100% genuine."That's what I'm worried about," he said.

"For Heaven's sake Sherlock... we should have left five minutes ago." Mycroft said brusquely as Sherlock reached for his shoe laces past the immovable compact roundness of Neep.... bending at the waist was becoming impossible. "There's been a traffic incident at the corner of Marble Arch that could delay us even further....and a faulty traffic light at Embankment."  
"It's only five minutes...."Greg said calmly.... his warm brown eyes said a lot more, fixed on Mycroft's highly strung, angular face with open concern.  
"I can't help it.... if I have to go pee every five minutes then I have to go pee every five minutes." Sherlock was breathless from the exertion of shoelace tying but affronted enough to protest anyway."I'm pregnant and peeing for two..."  
"I can't abide tardiness." Mycroft opened the door before Sherlock had even got his arm into his jacket....standing there like a ticking countdown clock, noting every passing second with barely hidden impatience...."Pregnancy is a natural physical condition for which your body was genetically designed, not a series of woeful excuses.... Drink less tea!"

As soon as Sherlock slid into the back seat next to Mycroft and slammed the car door the car set off.... and the Omega turned round in his seat to see Alan's open look of shock that he and Greg had been left behind to get into car number two.  
"You do realise you've left my bodyguard and Greg behind on the pavement?" Sherlock asked....  
"Alan Riddick is a great deal more than merely your bodyguard. Why you persist in such vagaries is beyond my comprehension...." Mycroft was already tapping away at the screen of his mobile phone."Don't exagerate Sherlock.... there was a second car standing by...."  
Sherlock stared out the back window, at the identical black car following them, longingly.... unable to admit he felt uneasy not having Alan's familiar solidity close by. "I could deduce what happened....with Greg...." he said simply.  
Not a threat, just a fact. He could and they both knew it.  
"Don't," Mycroft said without even looking up."Just don't, Sherlock.... Please."

Sharing a car with Alan Riddick when Sherlock was in another car was revealing... the man's hands were practically vibrating with stress.  
"You know all Mycroft's cars are bullet and bomb proof.... to a Presidential level." Greg said.  
"Yeah? Well Sherlock's not ruddy armour plated, last time I checked. He's vulnerable" Riddick was fuming. "When we get to the court he gets out the car, doesn't he? Those court steps are a bloody nightmare.... vantage points all over."  
"Mycroft has it covered. He's not about to let anything happen to his brother," Greg said.  
Riddick's phone pinged with a text.... ARE YOU TALKING TO GREG YET? THIS IS YOUR CHANCE. SH X  
Greg's phone pinged next and Mycroft's name flashed up.... SHERLOCK WILL ATTEMPT TO EXTRACT INFORMATION> VITAL>DO NOT CONFIDE IN RIDDICK .... Greg turned the phone to mute and placed it in a pocket. If Mycroft had something to say he'd have to say it in person.

Alan tapped at the screen with fingers that were too broad for it.... STAY IN CAR TILL I GET THERE.  
The screen lit up almost instantly, as the lad replied to his text.... DOES GREG SMELL OF CIGARETTE SMOKE? V. IMPORTANT I KNOW THIS. SH X  
Alan inhaled and texted back ..... CANT TELL  
Another text....Sherlock's long nimble fingers texted at the speed of light. FIND OUT. SH X  
The car was idling at the lights.....  
SNIFF HIM.SH X  
"Looks like a taxi broke down at the junction...." Greg's head was turned away to watch as police waved traffic past a few vehicles at a time....  
Alan's phone pinged again.... HAIR WILL DO. SH X  
Of all the bloody hare brained schemes.....  
ASAP. SH XOXO  
It was the kisses and hugs that did it.... Alan shifted and leant in towards Greg's silver hair slowly..... Just as Greg turned his head around to say...."Looks like we're about to move" and caught him right in the act.....

"What the bloody HELL are you doing scenting my neck you flippin' perv?" Greg was indignant. Righteously angry. What the heck was going on here?  
"Nothing!" Alan defended himself stoutly. "Not fucking _that _any road!"__  
"Says the man with his nose in my bloody hair!" Greg raised his voice. Loudly incredulous. "Ever heard of keeping your distance!... One Omega not enough for you ? Is that it?"  
"What the fuck! I don't fancy you... Are you out of your ruddy mind?" Alan raised his voice to match Greg's.  
"I'm not the one leaning in like a letch for.... fuck knows what!" Greg retorted.

Alan's phone chose that exact moment to ping with a text from the gorgeous lunatic responsible for this whole fiasco..... YES? NO? MAYBE? HAVE U DONE IT YET? SH X ..... He turned the screen to face Greg.... "Sherlock thinks you've fallen out with his brother...."  
"That's why you're scenting my neck?" Greg knew Sherlock was impulsively eccentric but this took it to a whole new level of crazy! There was even a whole line of nose emoji's under the text for God's sake!  
"I wasn't bloody scenting your neck! Get over yourself! I'm as good as bonded." Riddick ground the denial of any illicit attraction out, jaw tight.  
"Then what the bloody Hell were you doing?" Greg wanted answers.  
"Sniffing your ruddy hair to see if you reek of fags! For Sherlock! Happy now?" Alan said tersely. "Scenting your neck ....my arse!"

____

"My hair....?" Greg was dumbfounded. "What the heck does my hair have to do with this?"  
"Don't ask me.... the lad needs to know if you hit the smokes. You know what he's like .... he's fretting about his brother...."  
Greg dug in his pocket, flipped the packet open to reveal only two cigarettes were left and tossed the box onto the seat between himself and Alan.... " I smoked 10 back to back...."  
Alan made no move to text that infomation Sherlock's way. "Thought you were on them patches? The nicotine ones."  
"I was on the bloody patches .... now I'm back on the smokes." Greg said shortly.  
Riddick gave it a few minutes.... "Things that bad?"  
Greg heaved a sigh.... "That's just it... it's no big deal." He wasn't going to say more than that.

"So what's the problem... if there's no problem?" Alan was bluntly direct.  
"Nothing...."Greg said enigmatically.  
Riddick frowned. Puzzled.  
The car turned into the bond courts narrow entrance and Alan's attention shifted to Mycroft's own car, checking that Sherlock was still inside it . Safe and protected.  
"So there's now't wrong between you and Mycroft and the lad's mithered about nothing? That doesn't happen often ....he's right most times." Alan said suddenly and Greg was reminded that behind the Alpha's gruff exterior was someone who understood Sherlock's complicated personality well enough to be in a relationship with him.  
Greg watched as the familiar figure of Mycroft in his immaculate coat got out of the car and stood quietly alongside it... waiting for them....the wind stirring the short orderly lengths of his auborn hair. "There's nothing wrong as far as I'm concerned.... " Mycroft turned to face them and Greg saw the telltale signs of humiliation and strain stamped so plainly on Mycroft's face he was amazed Alan even needed to ask the question.... "But then.... I'm not the one who thinks there's a big problem," he said and opened the car door.

Sherlock waited until Riddick had come striding up on Mycroft with a face like thunder before flinging open the car door and inserting himself between brother and lover with one long legged fluid move..... "I stayed in the car.... like you said to do" he said, "Safely."  
"Sherlock! Sherlock! Over here!"The camera flashes were blinding, the brittle sharp sound of the shutter prompting Riddick to step in closer and shield the lad from full view of the press pack with his own body. He paused.... distracted by the urgent need to get Sherlock further up the court steps and closer to the doors into the building.

Now the Omega was out in the open with Magnussen about to get out of his own cavalcade of vehicles only metres away he looked incredibly fragile.....  
Sherlock had listened to him that was worth a word of praise.... "Aye ....you stayed put.... that was good. Let's get up the steps and over by the wall so we've something at our back." He was shepherding Sherlock forward with a hand on the boy's thin shoulder as he spoke....

"You never replied to my texts," Mycroft said to Gregory, keeping his voice low.  
"Try an actual conversation...." Greg said. A text wasn't going to fix this.  
"Like an actual human being, you mean?" Mycroft assumed that was what Greg was about to say....He knew he sounded coldly formal at times....he'd been told before....many times.... but to hear it from Gregory was strangely painful...  
"I didn't say that." Greg shook his head, sad that it needed explaining.... "Just talking.... you and me....man to man, not phone too phone.... would be a start, Mycroft."

Sherlock tried not to watch.... as Charles and Alexei climbed the steps to a round of rippling applause from the assembled Alpha that massed on his side of the court steps.... but the habit to watch and be aware of where Charles was at all times was too ingrained in him.  
Look away for an instant and he could be right there. Close enough to lash out....  
"Snow..." Alan said. "It's snowing lad....look up!" He tilted back his own head and watched the white tiny flakes swirl and eddy against the old stone of the building. Above them London's huge yellow and grey dirty skyline was reduced to a square of sky, the size of the claustraphobic courtyard with its towering buttressed walls.... like a prison yard. "Has to be a lucky sign for us.... doesn't it, lad? Snow?"  
Alan seemed to think so but Sherlock heard the slow clapping and jeering of the Alpha gathered there to support Charles begin again and wasn't so sure.... "Yes," he lied with a smile as the focused wall of hate filled sound sent the shabby grey pigeons clustered on the window sill scattering skyward....

The courtroom seemed louder than usual.... Sherlock ducked his head, gritted his teeth and followed Alan, sticking to him like glue, as the Alpha forged a path through.  
He could see John standing at the front of the court .... waiting with a wide smile on his face.  
Sherlock was a third of the way down the central aisle of the court before he realised..... Ten of the seats on his side were taken.... not just one....not just two.... or three.... or four....  
Ten. All sat close together in two seat rows.  
Eight new faces..... and two he'd seen before. Both the eldery Omega he'd asked John to find were looking right at him as he ground to a halt and stopped moving. "Alan...." he said uneasily, overwhelmed and nervous.....  
Alan stopped dead and turned round, a human shield, protective and solid.... "What's up?"  
Behind him, one by one, all ten of the Elite Omega on the left hand side of the courtroom got to their feet.... united in quiet support and respect for Sherlock's courage, standing firm and dignified amid the confrontational, jeering waves of barbed disapproval echoing angrily towards them from the Alpha side of the packed court room.

The Usher had seen nothing like it.  
Despite the thumping battering of his staff against the pitted medieval floorboards of the court the Omega remained stubbornly in place , standing silently on Sherlock's side of the court room and suddenly, like a line drawn in wet concrete, the division of opinion was there to be seen.  
Out in the open.  
A physical, tangible divide between secondary genders.  
Deeper. A rift.  
Two opposing sides.  
Alpha or Omega.  
Magnussen or Sherlock.  
Silently dignified or raucously aggressive.... left and Omega, or right and Alpha .... the side of the court you took a seat on was now a very public matter of stance and support.

"Silence ..... Silence in court!" The Usher roared hopelessly.


	62. Face The Fear and Do It Anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally meets the two elderly Omega and finds out why they and the others came to the court.  
> Tension between Charles and Alexei results in an open disagreement.  
> Aric Weber's surprise witness has a lot to say about Charles Magnussen....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes ....I know I said the next update would be a week but this was _almost _ready and honestly I just split it into 2 which will work better IMO..__  
>  We're having a great Christmas...hope you all are too....however you can only spend so many days playing Monopoly , watching gameshows on TV and eating Quality Street before feeling prematurely geriatric.  
> Adam says he is floating away on a tide of tea ....  
> I need something angsty to keep me sane!  
> So here you go..... 
> 
> Bitty is a Yorkshire word that means small.  
> Frosty knickers....means she is an uptight person and hard to warm too.

The Legate stood still....waiting patiently, as the heavy chain of office was placed about his neck and shoulders and adjusted until it lay perfectly against the rich scarlet wool and black tipped, white ermine fur of his robes. "Thank you , Saunton." He acknowledged the help with polite formality...."How many Omega are we talking about?"  
"Ten, Legate."  
"Standing you say....? Some kind of silent protest?"  
"It appears... to be just that... Your Honour." The Senior Usher, Saunton, a heavy set man in his fifties whose belly overhung his belt heavily, was breathless after climbing the steep steps up to the Legate's chamber's.  
"Can't you close it down?"  
"We've tried, Sir.... I had a word and bought down the staff me'self but they ain't for budging." One of the Junior Ushers defended their failure to end the protest already without involving the Legate.

Saunton, a dark haired man with startlingly, pock marked deathly white skin, addressed the Legate sotto voce, sounding at once apologetic and wheedling. "Strictly speaking.... as long as they remain lawfully silent there is little we can do.... Unless you wish to close all public seating on both sides of the court, Legate? That could be done."  
The Legate waited the explanation out ..... "No need to go to extremes . Let's see if things esculate.... If they fail to submit to my authority within the court, then they'll leave me little choice but to hold them in contempt but it may not come to that. Is that all ?"

"There is another matter, Legate...." The Head Usher admitted. "Mr Weber wished to submit this privately before you enter Court." He held out a wax sealed scroll.  
The Legate didn't hold back, expressing his opinion succinctly."Cutting it fine isn't he?"  
"Indeed, Sir.... I understand it is a matter of some urgency, however." At the Legate's nod Saunton took a step forward and spoke quietly his mouth close to the Legate's ear..."An unlisted witness, Legate...."  
"Well...well..." The Legate's smile was that of a man who relished the unexpected as he opened the parchment, scattering red wax fragments over the wide floorboards, and scanned it silently.... "It appears Herr Weber has been hiding an ace up his sleeve whilst the game has been in play."He tossed the scroll onto his desk.... "I'll consider a late submission."

Inside the crowded central aisle of the Court room, as he made his way toward the Omega side of the court, Mycroft Holmes found himself unexpectedly close to Charles Magnussen and Count Adeyev.  
Alexei took a step backwards and effectively blocked the only route through the crowd.  
"Don't assume this pathetic show of solidarity indicates the pendulum of opinion has swung your way," Charles said, his voice a cold hiss close to Mycroft's ear. "The Evening Standard tomorrow morning will lead with an award winning piece submitted by an independent journalist explaining the threat this case poses to the integrity of even the happiest bond. You would do far better to preserve the status quo of society as a whole and return my property to me...."  
"You own The Evening Standard.... do you not?" Mycroft said laconically, he almost sounded bored....

Charles didn't trouble himself to acknowledge that truth, his eyes looked past and focused hungrily on Sherlock's pure profile.  
Mycroft watched and saw where Magnussen's eyes lingered.....his mouth straightened in disgust but he remained silent and waited to reply until Magnussen's gaze came back to him.... "Independent? Yet he publishes in one of your newspapers which are renowned for their anti omega bias and are under your personal editorial control? Perhaps someone who knows this 'independent' journalist well could suggest a name change? Bought And Paid For....would seem to be more truthful description."  
"Everybody has a price. You fool yourself if you think otherwise." Alexei sneered. "If not money then something else they hold dear."  
"Not everybody." Mycroft remained unimtimidated. "Move aside. You stand in my way.... between myself and Sherlock."  
Charles lips curled back in a sudden show of teeth more akin to a snarl than a smile... "As do you in mine...."

Sherlock knew he was staring too much but he couldn't help it. He was drinking in infomation almost faster than he could think.  
The coat wasn't new.... it wasn't close to new... but originally it had been expensive. Bespoke even.  
It had been properly hung up on a wooden coat hanger. Taken care of but not replaced.  
The red paisley scarf was brightly cheerful but lent none of its optimistic colour to the pale, sickly complexion of the person wearing it.  
A face in which all the bones were far too prominent and the hollows too sunken.....  
There were bruised smudges of severe ill health under both exhausted eyes.  
A bandage on the back of one veined hand and a tube and dressing tape just visible at the neckline of his shirt. Some kind of IV? John would know.

' Strong wind would blow him over', Alan had said under his breath the second he'd seen the Omega before taking a step back, with his face set like he'd he'd seen a ghost and looked deliberately away....  
_Billy _.... Only thinking about Billy , ever made Alan look broken like that.__  
But why did he look like that now?  
Think Sherlock.... Billy.... Alan.... Love.... Loss....  
Cancer.  
Cancer was important....but how?  
"You're ill? You've just had chemotherapy?" The deduction was said aloud before he could think better of it. He wished he could snatch the words back almost instantly.... Tactless , how many times did he have to be told? Shut up Sherlock. Shut up....SHUT UP.....

"John said you were unusually observant," It was the second of the two Omega Sherlock had seen before who spoke. "My name is Raymond, this is Louis. Louis is on his third round of chemotherapy. He should be resting his voice but I can talk for us both."  
The two elderly Omega exchanged a knowing smile at that.  
A couple then. No that can't be right.... Can it? Two Omega? Is that even possible?  
Raymond.... Taller. Fitter or at least... not ill. Grey hair underneath but dyes his hair and even dyed his eyebrows. Likes to look like he did when he was younger.  
Why would anyone do that? That's quite... weird, having hair that doesn't match your age or your face anymore.  
Don't say that aloud, Sherlock! Don't say that aloud! Look for something else to focus on before you open your mouth and ruin everything.....  
Really not helping me here Neep....move your head or arse or whatever part of you that is..... Feet? No it's a knee.  
Concentrate you idiot, what is happening to you mentally!  
C...O...N ...C ...E ...N ...T ...R ...A ...T... E  
Move Neep....Please!  
Sherlock pressed a hand to his side just below a rib....Better..... 

Now.... what can you deduce.  
He ate a bacon sandwich for breakfast .... in a cafe? Tiny spots of bacon grease on his jacket front.... unless he eats breakfast in his coat at home..... but nobody does that, do they?  
Think Sherlock.... think.... what else would explain it....? "You were waiting in the cafe on the corner so you didn't have to stand on the steps outside the court? You ate outside at the tables on the pavement." Sherlock suddenly knew he was right. "You wanted to avoid all the hate?"  
Raymond gave a sad smile. "Yes.... experiencing it ourselves back in the day was difficult enough. It's the kind of unpleasant experience that lingers in the memory...."  
Yes ....but you came in the court and you knew you'd be shouted at in here too.... because you were here before and that's what happened when you were. The jeering and the insults.

Louis spoke up.... his voice a painful raw whisper that sounded as though his throat lining was stripped.... "We did try... and come yesterday.... but.... it was too.... soon after chemo....I feel much.... stronger today."  
"We wanted to be here.... for you. To acknowledge what you're doing." Raymond said. "All ten of us."  
For me? But why would you stand up for me? "Why?"  
John's familiar voice was easy to concentrate on.... "Sherlock doesn't see that him being here is something inspirational."  
Surprise altered Louis fragile voice.... he sounded younger suddenly, more flamboyant even as he gasped between painfully spoken words. "Oh?.... But... you should! You're the... only one.... among all... ten of us....who've been here.... that.... stands any.... chance of.... actually winning." 

" I see Sherlock has broadened his social circle to include the elderly....You were always so reluctant to allow him to mix with other Omega but look at him now....choosing his own company." Alexei could never control an impulse to ridicule or provoke.  
Charles greedy eyes remained fixed on Sherlock.  
"He looks well .... does he not, carrying his little bastard.....?" Alexei was thoughtful.  
Charles didn't look away from his Omega.... there was a chilling coldness in his voice. "The pregnancy is an incumbrance.... easily replaced by my knot in his hole...."  
"Should it be born Omega my offer for the hybrid still stands. It would amuse me. Name your price...."

Charles lost sight of Sherlock's perfect face as all around them the court rose to its feet, in respect of the Legate and his fellow judges as they entered the court room. "You think to take the child and imagine you have experienced your cock inside Sherlock, Alexei...?" He was dismissive and careless of the other Alpha's pride.  
Behind him, unseen, Alexei's face was full of its own petulant surge of ugly temper.... "You can't blame me for the desire .... since Riddick stands there as living proof it can be done? Did you ever imagine you'd share so much.... when you employed him?" He probed and pushed , unheedingly angry, careless. malicious.... and suddenly he got a reaction....

There was a brief explosion of violent movement . Charles had a fistful of jacket and shirt before Alexei shoved him away...."You push too far! Too far!" The words were a furious snarl that everyone heard but few except those closest could see the cause....  
Alexei staggered , caught off guard before he regained his footing. His narrow face flushed with temper as he straightened his tie and suit, tugging at it furiously, hissing viciously at Charles.... " Have you forgotten what we know of each other that you dare lay your hands on me? Have you lost your mind!"  
Already there were usher's between them, attempting to calm the volatile situation down.... behind them, on the far side of the court, Mycroft's startled face was unmistakable.  
Alexei laughed bitterly.... "Why argue over Sherlock... is his hole worth so much to you? In a heat would he care whose cock fills him or would he take us both and still open his legs and beg for more?"  
Charles rarely laughed but he did now. Incredulous and openly amused. "I forget how little you know him," he said. 

"What was the cause of that commotion?" The Legate was angry at the lack of respect shown.  
"Mr Magnussen and Count Adeyev, Legate.... a physical disagreement concerning the Omega." An Usher was quick to try and explain away the disruption that had broken out just as the Legate entered court.  
"Which Omega? There are several here today." The Legate demanded more clarity sharply.  
"Sherlock Holmes , Legate.... Count Adeyev appears to have passed some comments regarding him that caused offence. Sexual comments."  
"Appears? Tell me the precise words you know were spoken... without embellishment or guesswork," the Legate said and the Usher leant in and spoke in a hushed voice .....

The ringing sound of the Head Usher's staff striking the floor bought all eyes his way..... " Pray be seated so that justice can be served!"  
The Legate watched the Alpha side of the court settle, the odd word passed between individuals on the right hand side of his court and then even that died away.  
On the left hand side of the court behind Sherlock Holmes the ten Omega sat in perfect silence as the Legate beckoned Weber and Milne to stand before him. "I'll agree to the introduction of this new witness this time, Herr Weber.... don't think to make a habit of it."  
"Thank you, Legate." Aric was unruffled....placidly calm.  
"Mr Milne... I'll break session early to allow you extra time to prepare for cross examination.... should you feel it necessary."  
Milne opened his mouth to protest. "Legate.... may I ask for an adjournment... at least an afternoon"  
The Legate dismissed him out of hand.... " You may not! Enough time has been wasted on your side of the court already today. I will not tolerate brawling or disrespect ... You may introduce your witness, Herr Weber."

"Place your right hand upon the Bible and swear that the evidence you shall give shall be the truth. the whole truth and nothing but the truth...."  
Aric Weber stood ready as the witness finished reading the oath, her intonation precise and upper class. "State your full name for this court please."  
"Ingaborg Vesterguaard."  
"You have been employed as Governess to several high ranking Elite families..."Aric glanced down at his list. "Your previous employers include European Royalty?"  
"I have. That is correct."  
"Would you tell us whom your last employer was?"  
" I can. It was Charles Magnussen." Miss Vesterguaard didn't hide her distain for the man.  
"You were employed by Charles Magnussen to act as Governess to Aleksander Magnussen?"  
" He was my sole charge."  
"And how old was Aleksander when you arrived to take up the post of Governess?"  
"Four years of age."  
"Would that be usual in an Elite family? For a child of that young age to be in the care of a Governess and not a full time Nanny?" Aric asked disingenuously  
"It is not usual. However Mr Magnussen was at some pains to explain that he had recently dismissed all Household staff owing to a security breach and the abduction of the child's mother...." As she spoke Miss Vesterguaard searched curiously along the front row until her eyes found Sherlock. "I was told Aleksander was extremely intelligent and advanced for his age. Of course I did express some concerns that such a young child would require a level of emotional and physical care I do not normally provide....."  
John heard Alan mutter towards Sherlock...."Heaven forbid she should have to give him a hug or two.Frosty knickers."

"Did you find that to be an accurate description of Aleksander's abilities?" Aric was patient, allowing the woman to answer in her own time.  
"Academically? Without question.... Aleksander is an exceptionally capable child. He learns quickly at a level way beyond his years, he is fluently multilingual ,an enthusiastic pupil and an independent and voracious learner. There were no concerns about his intellect.... but intellectual development is not everything."  
Magnussen had raised his head to stare at the witness....his jaw clenched in anger.

"I presumed , given what you have just said , that he was a joy to teach?" Weber said thoughtfully.  
" Too teach.... yes.... In all other regards....no. I would describe him as a difficult, demanding child."  
"Please explain." Weber said placidly, his hands deftly filling a pipe with tobacco.  
"Aleksander has little control of the more extreme emotions... His mood can swing from agreeably co-operative to obstinate and difficult within moments.... He tantrums. He can be unkind to staff.... extremely impatient...He dislikes being alone... He wets the bed. He lies to avoid correction...."  
"Christ" Riddick muttered. "He's barely more than a baby. She makes him sound like he's a lost cause already...." The Legate's hooded eyes looked his way briefly and Alan stopped talking fast.

Aric raised a palm to halt the testimony.... "Can you provide us with some examples of his more difficult behaviour?"  
"I can.... Screaming. He has an irrational fear of the dark...."  
"Many children suffer from that.... isn't that true? Or are night lights now a thing of the past?" The Legate spoke across the witness....his power to do so and interupt absolute. "I myself had a model of Toad Hall as a nightlight for some years as a child...."  
" It is a common fear Legate, among more imaginative children .... however Mr Magnussen was insistent. Aleksander was not to be indulged..."  
"Was a nightlight permitted?" Aric's tone was deceptively mild, almost agreeable.  
"It was not."  
"He was left in the dark despite his fear of it?"  
"Objection.... My Honourable Colleague makes it seem as though the child was abandoned in some rat infested hovel.... I assume his rooms are quite comfortable and suitable for a child of his age, Charles?" Milne drawled.  
"They are. As my son he wants for nothing." Charles was matter of fact.  
"Objection upheld. Move on Herr Weber." The Legate ruled.

"Could you tell us Aleksander's bedtime routine?" Aric rephrased his question. He wasn't about to give up.  
"Following a bath and changing for bedtime.... he was permitted half an hour reading to himself the light was turned off and the door closed."  
"He read to himself? Did you ever read a bedtime story to him?" Aric asked mildly.  
"There was no need. He reads fluently..." Miss Vesterguarrd was irritated.  
"I see ....however most children enjoy a bedtime story, dont they? Despite his fear of being left alone.... did Aleksander accept that he must remain alone and read to himself. He knew it was the rule?" Aric knew the answer.  
"He would not. He attempted to leave the bedroom and rejoin whoever was on night duty in the nursery sitting room. He repeatedly asked for the door to be left ajar.... until, finally the door had to be locked shut.... Once locked in....he screamed....at the top of his voice. He became hysterical."  
Sherlock was staring at the witness.... dislike clear on his face .... as though he'd forgotten she was here to give witness on his behalf.....  
"How long a period would he scream for? On average nightly" Aric's level tone held no judgement. He simply allowed Miss Vesterguaard sufficient rope to hang herself....  
"Several hours. He'd pull at the door handle....beg to have the door left open... make all types of promises to behave better. He'd make himself vomit, he'd wet himself... it was blatant manipulation of course...."  
Mycroft inhaled sharply. Next to him Sherlock's hand was shaking....  
"He's just a bitty lad.... He was bloody scared stiff." Riddick's kept his voice down low, his words meant for Sherlock only yet his accented voice was easily indentifiable and the Legate looked his way at once and warned him against interrupting again as a murmour of low comment ran around the court.

Miss Vesterguarrd's every consonant was sharpened by her disapproval of Riddick's opinion. "In my considerable experience indulging a weakness merely perpetuates it....prolongs it. Once a child realises crying and tantrums have no effect it will stop."  
Weber tapped out his pipe.... " And did Aleksander stop?"  
"He did not."  
"That would appear to contradict your considerable experience would it not?" Weber began refilling his pipe and waited.....  
"The child was simply too immature."  
"I see...." Aric made it seem he was working through his thoughts on the problem of Aleksander as he spoke.... whereas really he was sure of them already. "The nightly tantrums .... the screaming.... Aleksander's fear of the dark .... call it what you will.... continued? Did you inform Mr Magnussen of these problems?"  
"Of course."  
"You have a great deal of experience.... I assume Mr Magnussen asked for your imput on resolving the issue?" Aric looked up....  
"Then you assume wrongly." Miss Vesterguarrd said frostily. 

"Wrongly...? Your professional advice wasn't asked for or.... or you gave advice that wasn't then followed?" Weber placed the unlit pipe in his mouth before removing it.....  
"I gave advice on a great many issues.... there were a great many problems. Mr Magnussen refused to allow me to correct the child physically."  
"And in your professional opinion what was the root cause of Aleksander's problematic behaviour."  
Milne was on his feet...."Objection! Legate...Miss Vesterguaard is a governess not a child pyschologist..."  
"Withheld. Continue Herr Weber, I'll see where this goes. Witness will answer the question"  
Aric stood patiently in front of his witness.... "In your professional opinion, Miss Vesterguarrd, what did you tell Mr Magnussen was the root cause of Aleksander's problematic behaviour?"  
Miss Vesterguarrd looked across the court at Sherlock as she spoke. "That the bed wetting, the extreme fear of being alone, the screaming, the lack of emotional balance and security.... all were typical of an Alpha child allowed too little contact in the early stages of development with the birth mother."

Aric stood unruffled as the Alpha side of the court errupted into jeering abuse of his witness.  
Miss Vesterguaard stood frozen faced and frigid as the Legate hammered down the gavel and demanded the respectful obedience that was his due.  
When the only sound was a low mutinous muttering Aric spoke again.... "What was Charles Magnussen's response to the concern you expressed for the emotional well being of his sole son? Did he introduce some changes?"  
Miss Vesterguarrd looked at Magnussen.... despite the livid anger on his face she did not look away as she replied clearly. "No Herr Weber. I was dismissed immediately and an attempt was made by Mr Magnussen himself to intimidate me into silence!"


	63. The Art Of Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riddick is upset and guilty, seeing another Omega with cancer has bought back painful memories....  
> Mycroft is struggling to know what he should do about Gregory...  
> John and Sherlock talk with the elderly Omega from the Court and find out what life has been like for them.  
> Mycroft gets some good advice from an unlikely source....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen Elizabeth 1 famously trod on Sir Walter Raleigh's cloak after he lay it on top of a puddle for her....no idea why he didn't just give her a piggy back over it....  
> Khali....sherbert. Its called khali because Asian immigrants bought it into Yorkshire.  
> Telling someone they make a better door than they do a window is a Yorkshire way of saying they need to get out the way because nobody can see through you. Its a classic example of Yorkshire bluntness IMO.
> 
>  
> 
> I should probably also say I think Mycroft is extremely sexy in his own way.....and he and Greg will work things out, I just moved the update around a bit as it became crazy long.  
> Blue the track is Ultraviolet by The Amazon's.

The sky had gone very dark. There was a warming fire burning in Aric's chambers, its banked up wall of coals lit from inside with a bright orange glow. Alan Riddick was sat as far away from it as possible.... turned away so the room saw only his back as he stared out the leaded window onto the empty courtyard below and watched the sudden storm of hailstones bounce and ricochet off the tiny panes of glass.  
"If you want too.... we can meet them now in the restaurant on the corner, Sherlock? Mycroft arranged for us to use the private function room upstairs." John could tell Sherlock wanted to find out more.... too meet the Omega from the court and talk properly.... but something was holding him back. Oh who was he kidding.... _Someone _more like.__  
"I just need some time, John.... to talk to Alan."  
Alan didn't look in any mood to talk in John's opinion. Everything about the man's posture and body language proclaimed piss off and don't bother me.  
"You sure he wants to talk right now, Sherlock?" Even Greg wasn't sure. The turned back sent a clear message. Leave me alone.  
"Of course he does." Sherlock said, undaunted.

____

"Frosty knickers.... is that a Yorkshire saying?" Sherlock squeezed himself and Neep determinedly into the compact space left between Alan's knee and the wall of the window seat.  
"Mebbe. I'd a teacher hated me .... my mum'd would call her it." Alan's voice was sad and thoughtful but he made room for Sherlock just the same. "I'd a twist of khali in my pocket one day in class, spilt it all over my school trousers.... she gave me a whack around the back of the head made me see stars."  
"Your teacher?"  
"Aye... Miss Bullock was her name" Alan said flatly. "Old frosty knickers."  
"Why didn't she like you? Was it just the khali in your pocket?"  
"Do you even know what khali is?" Alan said. "It's sherbert ... they sell it in the Asian shops. Looks like white powder... fizzes up in your mouth."  
"Did Billy like it...?" Sherlock said softly but even softly asked, the question bought Alan's eyes straight up to meet his.... Guilt. Definately guilt.  
"He loved it. Sweet tooth .... same as you," Alan's vivid blue eyes stayed on Sherlock's.  
"You still love him." It wasn't a question. He knew for sure.  
"Aye. Him and you both. Now you know it." Alan hated the way the words sounded like an ending when he didn't mean them that way.  
"I always knew it. You can love us both you know.... it's alright to do that.He loved you, you love him.... that doesn't stop just because he's gone." Sherlock moved, kneeling up on one knee and leaning in so his forehead rested against Alan's.... "He wouldn't mind that I love you now, would he?"  
Alan's shuddering breath heated Sherlock's face. "He'd have liked you....I love you, lad."  
Sherlock's lips moved against Alan's face with a slow, loving care .... kissing over and over until Alan slid a broad cupping hand up to the nape of his neck and kissed back.

Mycroft watched them kiss for a moment then looked away to afford his brother the privacy and free choice to share his heart that Magnussen had never allowed him.  
He looked up again .... watching Gregory talk to John on the other side of the room.  
Even in the dark light Gregory's hair was a striking pure silver. Classic and beautiful in its own way.  
Mycroft caught sight of his own reflection in the dark marble of the fireplace surround.... pale faced and sharp featured. Bookish.....forever plain next to Sherlock's perfect beauty of face and form.  
Yet Gregory had said he was 'enough'..... whatever enough meant. He stole another glance at Gregory to try and make sense of it all only to find Gregory looking his way already.  
The patient smile Gregory gave him made him feel incredibly guilty and he looked away more abruptly than he intended.

How was it that Sherlock made loving someone look so simple, even after all he had suffered.  
A matter of trust and truth.  
Of honesty and tolerance.  
Of faith. In yourself and in your beloved.  
But.... if caring was not an advantage then what purpose was it to face risk and ridicule, all your vulnerabilities laid bare alongside your flesh?  
A coal tumbled forward out of the fire and lay alone burning in the hearth.... Mycroft reached for the fire tongs and replaced it carefully back where it should be.  
When he looked up this time..... Gregory was gone.

"John will you take me to talk to the Omega?"  
"Now?" John's eyes went back to the window seat where Riddick was still sat quietly, seperated from everyone else, with a cup of tea next to him. "Alan coming along?"  
"No. Is that a problem?" Sherlock said carefully.  
"You tell me, Sherlock?" John said as he got to his feet.  
Sherlock's clever inky eyes watched John's every infinistimal gesture of genuine concern and saw the lingering hope that maybe, at last, he saw a rift between Sherlock and Alan. Then... "No. There's no problem," he said. "Let's go."

The street outside the arched doorway was empty of passers by, sheets of rain lashed the grey pavement and darkened the pale stone of the old doorstep on which Sherlock stood behind John. A black cab sent up a tiny tidal wave of water towards the gutter as it drove past.  
"We'll have to make a dash for it...." John said it before remembering that Sherlock was pregnant and couldn't sprint anywhere.  
Sherlock gave a snort at the absurdity of it all. "A one legged woman laden with shopping bags could probably out hop me in a race at this point in my life.  
John grinned. "Yeah. Sorry Sherlock, I forgot."  
There was a polite cough.... more a clearing of the throat from behind them. John span around fast....  
The elderly Huic Ostarius who'd shown them to this quiet doorway out of the court and unlocked it for them with an old ornate key , held out a bright green umbrella. "Would this be of use Dr Watson?"  
"That would be brilliant," John said with a smile.

"This feels oddly .... couple-ish." Sherlock complained as they crossed the street. "Do you have to have an arm round me?"  
John waited mid street, on the white line, for a car to pass...."Sorry. Just trying to keep you in the dry and under the umbrella."  
"I don't dissolve in rain. A few drops aren't going to kill me," Sherlock said..... just as a car hit a puddle at speed and splashed up a cold dirty spray of greyish water over them both. "Ugh!"  
"Serves you right for complaining, when I'm trying to be a gentleman" John said with some satisfaction.  
"I'm not Queen Elizabeth and you aren't Sir Walter Raleigh. It's a free umbrella from Lloyds bank not some heroic gesture with a cloak...." Sherlock griped.  
"God knows how Alan puts up with you sometimes," John said feelingly.  
"He spends a lot of time grunting in the gym remember, a flawless six pack helps."  
Flawless... " He's that ripped is he?" Of course he was, John resisted the urge to groan.  
"Totally..." Sherlock answered with heartfelt satisfaction.... then found himself giggling helplessly at the mad lunacy of him actually having a lover who looked like that.

The stairs up to the function room were steep and the wood had such a varnished dark sheen it looked slippery. Sherlock made sure to hold the bannister. He was a bit short of breath by the time he got to the top....wheezing as he leant against the wall. "Those..... stairs.... very.... steep." John , curse him, looked just fine.  
"Take a minute to get your breath back."John was patient.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes.... "Already doing that.... thus the gasping..... Do you always have to state the obvious?"  
"Yeah.... about as often as you manage to make me feel like a total idiot," John said.  
"You need to develop a thicker skin, like Alan has..." Sherlock spoke without thinking.  
John gave him an 'honestly, Sherlock, are you serious?' stare.  
"Sorry," Sherlock said.  
"That wasn't so difficult was it? And to think they say sorry is the hardest word of all...." John winked.  
"Shut up, John..." Sherlock grinned back.

 

"You ok? Ready to go in? " John checked as Sherlock hesitated outside the closed door.  
"Yes.... but what do I say?" Sherlock knew he sounded unsure. He hated not knowing what should come next.  
"Hello..." John suggested matter of factly and opened the door.  
"Idiot...." Sherlock hissed behind him.

"Hello...." Sherlock went with John's suggestion almost as soon as the door opened. It wasn't as inane as it originally sounded, so presumably that meant calling John an idiot was a little rash too.  
There was a quiet buzz of companiable chatter that stopped politely when he came in but took up again so quickly he almost didn't spot that nobody wanted to intimidate him by staring or suddenly falling silent. It was a considerate kindness designed to put him at ease right away.  
"Sherlock.... John. Come on in. " Raymond felt like a familiar person already. "That weather! Are you both soaked? They're saying it should clear up soon."  
"I'm not so sure. I think its set in for the afternoon. Good to meet you again, Ray....." John was so professionally good at meeting people. It'd be a useful ability to have. Sherlock watched John's easy friendliness and confident handshake, he made it all look simple. "Louis, good to see you again.... It's raining cats and dogs out there."

"Sherlock.... can I take your coat? You look a little damp around the edges." Raymond offered. "We've ordered tea, sandwiches and cake so please help yourself."  
"A car splashed us." Sherlock shrugged out of his coat a little less gracefully than he used too, now Neep made bending in any direction harder. "What kind of cake?"  
"Sponge cake with strawberry and cream," Louis said, his throat still sounded red raw. "I'll cut you some, while Ray introduces you to everyone."  
Sherlock looked nervously over at all the people he didn't know.  
"Just a quick hello round the room .... we don't want to overwhelm you," Ray said reassuringly.

Sherlock could count the numbers of Elite Omega he'd met in the last few years on the fingers of one hand.  
To suddenly meet ten people who were basically strangers should have felt overwhelming but it didn't. It felt like belonging to something bigger.  
Names and introductions went in his ears and straight out of his head, which normally would alarm him as a sign that his brain was still malfunctioning but nobody he was being introduced too noticed that he was temporarily inacapable of perfect recall.  
John seemed to have no problem... of course, he'd have to remember patients and connect names to faces all the time in his job. He'd be used to it...

Sherlock smiled in all the right places .... or at least he thought he did.... He'd opened a cupboard in his memory house, pulled out everything that he had replicated inside it from the real life house and was reusing it to store every fact he was deducing fast. Knowing he needed to store it all now and process later.... he was stuffing it full with details.... eye colour and faces, voices and accents, clothing and shoe sizes....shopping habits and modes of travel there today.....ages, personal habits and telltale signs..... until it was full floor to ceiling with everything and he had to wedge the door shut with one knee and lock it fast before they all spilt out across the floor ....  
When he'd done that he came back out and found Louis looking at him curiously.....  
"Welcome back in the room," Raymond said kindly. He looked puzzled too.  
"I've a memory house.... a way I remember things.... facts and people. Places. Anything important." Sherlock barely ever admitted he had it and was taken aback to find himself describing it now. "Inside my head."  
"And you're adding us all too it?" Raymond asked.  
Sherlock nodded." In an empty cupboard."  
Louis smiled. "We'll take that as a compliment, won't we Ray?"

The cake was delicious. The cream was sweet and tasted of vanilla.  
John watched in open surprise as Sherlock ate two huge slices.  
"Everyone here in this room has been through what you're going through Sherlock. We all survived the whole bond court experience and came out the other side." Ray said with pride in his voice.  
"That's how we all met. Ray and I set up a support group... originally just too meet other Bond Court Survivors and everyone here signed up," Louis said quietly.  
"Back when we started nothing was online of course....it was all leaflets we printed up at home and phonecalls. We didn't really know what we were doing to begin with.... Then our local gay radio show was kind and offered us some airtime and we ran the first safe space coffee morning. We thought maybe 18 people would definately come.... 40 guys turned up and it all snowballed from there. Now its a monthly thing.... we meet for a meal, coffee , we even go bowling."  
Sherlock hadn't realised so many Elite Omega had been through the bond court system.  
"That was just the first coffee morning.... we've over 300 UK members now and its growing," Ray was openly proud of that fact. "It's a drop in the ocean, numbers wise we suspect there has to be a lot more who remain isolated, but you can't reach everybody."  
Sherlock blinked. "300 ..."  
"300 who've have been through the Hell of bond court. Of course, there must be more who don't come forward, those of us who took it that far are still a relatively tiny, very stubborn minority...," he smiled at Sherlock. "The majority who get in touch were put out by their Alpha. We run a property portfolio and a letting agency , renting exclusively to Elite Omega without a bond mate. Many get referred on to us because they had nobody else who'd help with finding accomodation .... its next to impossible without money, official paperwork or the support of your Alpha Dominus."  
"Most landlords won't accept a single Elite Omega as a tenant, even if he has the money to pay the rent and a lot don't if they've been put out... "

"Take me. My Alpha upgraded to a younger model without bothering to tell me. I was surplus to requirements, so he left me behind at Gatwick airport and flew back out to Geneva without me. I was stranded at the airport for two days, sleeping in the departure lounge, before anybody took pity on me...." Louis volunteered his story. "The airport police came and took me to a youth hostel but it was full of unbonded Alpha.... I spent one night, barricaded into the room and left the next day. If it wasn't for seeing Ray's advert in a shop window asking for a flatmate.... he'd drawn the sign for Omega in one corner.... God knows what would have happened to me if we hadn't hit it off straight away. I literally didn't have a penny to my name. Nothing but my luggage," he gave a sudden smile. "Least that was Gucci and turned out to be worth a decent amount in the pawn shop."  
"Your face when I told you to put everything you owned into some black bin bags and pawn the suitcases," Ray teased kindly.  
Louis laughed...."You remember what I said? 'But ....but they're Gucci .... the real thing' and you said....."  
"I should damn well hope so else we wont get much money for them and it'll be beans on toast without the beans for the foreseeable..." Ray laughed and finished the story seamlessly.

Louis smiled. "I took him to Bond Court of course....my wonderful Alpha.... tried to charge him with abandonment and get him to provide some kind of financial security for me so I could buy a house and then have the children visit.... "Louis shrugged. " My Legate was so old he looked half dead already. Your Mungo was junior judge of the three, he was a lot younger back then, I'm talking 40 years ago but he isn't the type to change for the better, he was in my Legate's ear from the get go dripping his poison against me..... needless to say I lost."  
Ray laid a hand on top of Louis arm. "You did call him an absolute moron though.... when he laid down his ruling.... Louis here stood up and told him exactly what he thought of him.... The man nearly had a fit. I don't think an Elite Omega had ever answered him back in his life before that."  
Louis smiled .... "There was that! My victory of sorts."  
Sherlock's anxious eyes darted to John before coming back to Louis. "You lost?"  
"We all lost."Ray said. "It's the elephant graveyard of Elite Omega hopes that place.... but, Sherlock, nobody had a case like you do. You've a Legate whose decent and has softened his stance with time, not hardened it as so many do. You're exactly the right type of person, from the right type of background to make them doubt themselves. You stand a real chance....of doing what none of us could and making those absolute bigots hand down some genuine justice for once!"  
"I'm not sure it's going that well," Sherlock said dubiously as he shifted in his chair and pushed a palm against his ribs without thinking. His back was aching and after two slices of cake Neep was kicking furiously, though Sherlock wasn't sure if that meant he agreed or disagreed that the case so far was neither won nor lost.  
Ray and Louis exchanged knowing, worried glances.

"You said you lost, Louis?" John knew Sherlock would have to know so he asked for him. "What about your children?"  
"My second son was Alpha. He inherited years ago. He's bonded himself now.... I get the odd visit from him and a hamper from Harrods every Christmas.... full of caviar and gentlemans relish..."Louis shook his head tolerantly bemused by it. "As Dominus of the family, he feels it best that I don't get to see his two Omega sons. Bad influence, you see? I'm allowed to call monthly.... on the phone...and of course there's Facebook.... lots of lovely photographs. It's like looking at a glossy family magazine," he pulled a rueful face. " I worry most about my oldest son, he was born Omega. He was bonded years ago of course... it's impossible to get any infomation on him or how he is doing. I know he had three Alpha sons.... Paul, Stefan and Emil..... but thats all the infomation I have. Nothing recent. They still live in Geneva.... I know that..." his voice faded away, before he rallied with visible determination. "It's much the same for Ray, except he knows even less about his sons than I do."  
"Come on Louis, Sherlock and John don't need to see two old Omega get maudlin about the past," Ray teased affectionately.  
"Less of the old, I'm a whole six days younger than you." Louis said and leant in for a kiss.

John smiled at Sherlock, feeling strangely proud of him, as the Huic Ostaruis unlocked the old narrow entrance to the bond court and let them back inside. Months ago imagining Sherlock agreeing freely to meet and talk with a anyone new would have been impossible. "What are you thinking, Sherlock? Did you guess they were a couple; Ray and Louis?"  
"I don't guess, John.... I deduce. It was obvious." Sherlock touched his pocket , checking he still had Ray and Louis contact details.  
"Go on then, impress me and tell me how you knew...." John hadn't heard Sherlock deduce in so long.  
"Same shampoo. Same washing powder. Same fabric conditioner.....Same left handed, barber cut their hair; he did Ray's first and Louis second," Sherlock began....  
John grinned happily. "You know that's still as amazing when you do that as it was the first time you ever did it for me? How do you even spot stuff like that?"  
It completely threw Sherlock off his stride. He'd had a lot more deductions to list but suddenly they were all gone. "It's just observation, John . Learning to really look at what's right in front of you."  
"No... it's unique and it's brilliant," John replied. "I wish I could do it. It'd make asking someone out a lot simpler."  
" Really? That's what you'd use it for? Sometimes it's not .... so good to know. I can deduce things but that doesn't mean I can make them alright or get them to work out how I'd like." Sherlock sounded wistful. "What would you do if two people you care about had a problem and you knew what it is but you can't admit you do...?"  
"Ok that sounds confusing. Why can't you say that you know?" John said.  
Sherlock hesitated.... "Because its a personal problem and.... people don't _do _that do they? Normal people don't go around knowing things they have no right knowing....?"__  
"This thing you know about? Could you help fix it?" John asked.  
"I think so," Sherlock admitted. "Alan said I shouldn't get involved."  
I bet he did, John thought , why doesn't that surprise me.  
"He just thinks some things need to stay private," Sherlock tried to explain, sensing John's disapproval, "couple things, especially."

John said nothing, even though he'd suddenly guessed Sherlock's 'couple with a problem' could only be Greg and Mycroft. What other couples did Sherlock know? "Ok, that's what Alan thinks.... but what do you think? Do you agree?"  
"No..... not really..... but only because if I don't do something then Mycroft will just think and think in ever more concentric circles until he's talked himself right out of trying to be in the best relationship thats happened to him in years....." Sherlock's frustration was showing.  
John said gently.."You do know you just said Mycroft's name....?"  
"Shit!" Sherlock swore. "You can't show you know anything, John. I promised I wouldn't say." God , this was John and John was always an open book!  
"I won't. You have my word...." John promised quickly, spotting the rising signs of anxiety in Sherlock's face and voice.  
"I tried to talk Alan into talking to him ....." Sherlock admitted  
"Alan Riddick? You asked Alan to talk to Mycroft?" John let the disbelief colour his voice enough to bring Sherlock's head sharply up.  
"He's much better at knowing what to say than he thinks he is...." Sherlock defended his lover.  
John heaved a sigh....  
"He is!" Sherlock insisted.

"Cuppa?"  
Alan's familiar voice bought Mycroft abruptly back from his gloomy reverie. "I'll assume the question is rhetorical as you already appear to have made me a cup..."  
Alan placed the cup on the top of the mantlepiece."If you don't want to drink it just leave it," he said bluntly, before kneeling down and using the tongs to bank up the fire."You've let this go almost out...I thought you were keeping an eye on it."  
"I'll send for one of the Ushers..." Mycroft reached out a hand for the bell pull that hung next to the fire.  
"No need...." Alan bent down and pushed the poker into the smoking coals , lifting them slightly before placing some fresh tinder into the gap he'd created. "Pass me that newspaper you've had open at the same page on your lap for the last hour...."  
Mycroft handed it over wordlessly.  
Alan unfolded its broadsheet pages and flattened them across the lower part of the fireplace.... "My mother always said a fire is like any living thing.... it needs air and food, bit of care and it's job done....."

From behind the newspaper Mycroft could already hear the tinder crackling. "Not everything is so simplistic. Sherlock told you of course....?" He hoped the humiliated sense of failiure he could hear in his own voice wasn't apparent to Alan. Inside his head he could still hear Siger sneering..... _'What kind of Alpha can't penetrate an Omega whose wet for him? Are you impotent, Mycroft?' _He closed his eyes against the past for a second , bitterly glad that Riddick's back was turned to him.__

Riddick avoided saying what he knew or didn't know....busying himself with folding the paper and removing the red hot poker to lay it aside safely. "It's a bedroom thing? I can't think of owt else would make you this.... polite. Normally you'd have threatened to have me put out away from the lad by now for sticking my nose in....."  
"It's been a long time since I've said that," Mycroft could sense the beginings of a headache.  
"You drinking that tea I made you?" Alan asked.  
Mycroft reached for it and took a sip. "Far too much milk...." he said.  
Alan took a noisy gulp of his own tea. "Tastes fine too me." He took a second gulp. "Sherlock's worried about you.... and Greg.... both of you but mainly you.... he likes to know you're....."  
"To know I'm what?" Mycroft interupted sharply.  
"Happy.... What did you think I was gonna say? You know he thinks the world of you." Alan said, helping himself to a stale sandwich.  
Mycroft was taken aback. That Sherlock cared for him he didn't doubt but in the Holmes family emotions were obliquely hidden, hinted at but rarely spoken.... it appeared in Riddick's world they were to be spoken aloud, leaving no doubt.... He leant back in his winged backed armchair, so the flames flickering illumination didn't quite reach his face "The Alpha role...." he phrased his words with precise care."Did you never question your ability too....live up to it?"  
Alan was honest. "I'd a list as long as my arm of what I was never gonna be like.... nothing like my old man for starters.... took me a while longer to work out what kind of Alpha I wanted to be."  
Mycroft was no fool he could deduce there was more Alan wasn't saying.

____

"I'll be honest with you. You can't go far wrong if you let the Omega be the boss of you a bit. It takes the fear out of it for them if you let them have a fair say...." Alan said thoughtfully. Mycroft could practically hear the cogs moving inside Riddick's head as the other Alpha tried to work out Mycroft's situation.....  
"And if letting the Omega be more.... in control.... hasn't worked....?" Mycroft could barely believe he was approaching this topic....  
"This still a bedroom thing?" Alan was leant away choosing another sandwich to eat as he spoke.  
Oddly Riddick's refusal to name the 'thing' outright ss a sexual problem was a relief and not the annoyance Mycroft normally found it. "Things...."Mycroft began vaguely "went less.... well.... than I'd hoped....." Surely he'd said enough, even an idiot could infer what he meant?  
"He likes it one way and you like it another?" Alan hazarded a guess.  
Good God.... however did Sherlock tolerate thinking so slow it was almost on the level of a chimpanzee! "Don't be so absurd."  
"You don't like to dress up in rubber or any of that kinky Tory shit?" Alan went for guess number two.  
"I can assure you that deviance of that nature is not confined to the Tory party.... nor do I indulge," Mycroft's tone was sharply clipped.

Alan took another gulp of tea. Guess number three then so.... he cast his mind back to something he'd heard the lad say once. "Been a while has it... since you've um.... dated?"  
Mycroft's unhappy silence was enough of an answer.  
"Things ended a bit sooner than you'd have liked....?" Alan aimed to say as little directly as he could.  
There was a frosty stillness, then a desperate Mycroft managed one word..... "Prematurely."  
Riddick cleared his throat awkwardly with a hmm.  
Mycroft now knew how a plant felt as it wilts from the inside outwards.....  
"Happens to us all the odd time....even me and your brother....." Riddick began.  
"Mr Riddick!"Mycroft interjected urgently. "The relevant word that should warn you not to go any further with that particular sentance is 'brother'!"

Alan fell silent.... rubbing a hand over his face..... "Aye... Sorry. Look I can go all round the houses but we're straight talkers in Yorkshire, if someone makes a better door than they do a window we'll tell them so...."  
Mycroft realised he had absolutely no idea what that obtuse phrase meant.  
Alan heaved a sigh and Mycroft heard the latent signs of frustration in it...."I told Sherlock I'm shite with fancy words and advice....but would he believe it? Would he heck as like.....stubborn lad your brother...."  
Sherlock suggested this appalling conversation between lover and brother? Mycroft had no idea his brother was that worried.....

Alan gave the fire a vigorous poke to give himself summat to do as he spoke. "The handy thing about a cock is.... what goes down comes up again next morning.... if you get my meaning."  
Mycroft sought words at the same time as he became aware he really didn't wish to frame a reply.....  
Alan sat back and Mycroft saw him look over once. "What I mean is," Alan laboured on through with a painful determination. "You can give it another try. Nothing dropped off or broke...."

The silence was deafening.  
" I should go and see what's keeping Sherlock and John, we'll be called to go back into court soon." Mycroft got to his feet. Some acknowledgement seemed appropriate...." It would appear my brother knows you better than you do yourself Mr Riddick. You may lack the 'fancy' words but the principle was sound enough," he paused. "Do I need to mention that should you ever tell anyone that this conversation between us took place ......?"  
" Nope," Alan grinned. "Same goes for me...twice over and with bells on."  
"Quite...." Mycroft said. "Sherlock would become quite impossible if he knew one of his schemes came to fruition."


	64. Coincidence And Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milne is pulling no punches as he questions Miss Vesterguaard.  
> Tension rises in the court and finally spills over into open aggression.  
> The Legate struggles to keep control as Charles manipulates events ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update...Mycroft and Greg sort it out ...with a little 'help' from Sherlock....

Another heavy downfall of icy hail was striking and reverberating off the windows of the bond court as the ushers hurried to fetch the long poles with a brass hook at the top needed to reach and close the higher windows.  
Inside the room the eerily darkened skies and lack of natural light meant the electric lighting had been turned on. The atmospheric shadows of the medieval court room had vanished under the harsh glare and Miss Vesterguaard found herself blinking in the full glare of a harsh white light not unlike those used in an interrogation.

"Miss Vesterguaard, when you interviewed for the position as governess did Mr Magnussen discuss the exceptional need to protect his young son from media intrusion?" Milne took a sip of water.  
"Yes. At some length."  
"You agree it had been made clear. So.... it's fair to say you understood that Aleksander was a vulnerable child whose mother had been abducted by Alan Riddick, a previously trusted member of staff ...."  
John heard Riddick mutter something indistinct under his breath that sounded like 'wanker'.  
"Objection!.... Legate, as my honourable colleague knows well the full set of circumstances behind Sherlock's removal from Apple Dore have yet to be established!" Weber moved quickly to his feet to interject.  
Milne fought back...." Legate, it is essential I be allowed to outline the reality of the situation Mr Magnussen now found himself in after the removal of his Omega. There was a need for some contractual obligations designed to protect himself , his son and their family life from exactly this sort of public exposure ....."  
The Legate weighed both requests. "I'll allow it provided you rephrase the question ..... no mention of the alleged abduction at this stage in proceedings, Mr Milne." he said. 

"At the initial interview Miss Vesterguaard, did Mr Magnussen take additional time to explain to you that he had recently found himself forced to remove and replace all familiar employees since his in house security had been breached and none could be trusted?"  
"Yes he did." Miss Vesterguaard replied.  
"And did he also talk with you, at some length, concerning the emotional distress which the loss of the familiar team of nannies who had cared for Aleksander since he was six weeks old had caused his son?"  
" Yes. I empathised with the difficulties a lack of continuity in care could cause a young child."

"Did Charles Magnussen also explain that due to that breach of security he saw additional need to safeguard the privacy of his family under trying circumstances and state that as a result he would require you to sign an extended confidentiality agreement forbidding the discussion of your employment or duties at all before, during or after your employment?"  
"He did."  
" You willingly agreed to do so?"  
"I did."  
"The interview went well?"  
" I believed so."  
" So well in fact that following that interview you were happy to sign the contract that day?"  
"I was,' the governess agreed.  
"Yet here you stand today in clear and blatant breach of that contract," Weber said patronisingly and moved on before she could manage to reply.

"I'd like to submit an original copy of the contract signed by Miss Vesterguaard on the day Legate...."  
The Legate received a copy of the evidence as did his fellow judges in silence, leafing through to the relevant pages as Mr Milne continued.  
Milne read aloud.... "You agreed not to post any photographs taken within any of Mr Magnussen's homes or of Aleksander himself up onto any social media platform? The contract strictly forbad you photographing Aleksander at all didn't it?"  
"Yes. That is a standard privacy clause in most employment contracts. It has been so in all my previous positions."  
" I'd like to submit the following photographic evidence, Legate," Milne stood still while copies of the photographs were shown to the Legate and upon the Legate's nod the photographs were placed on a scanner and within seconds appeared on the wide-screen for all to see. "These photographs were taken down from Miss Vesterguaard's own Facebook page following a complaint made to Facebook by Charles Magnussen. Have you an explanation Miss Vesterguaard?"  
The blonde woman stood stiff backed as she viewed the screen. "I don't recall ever posting such pictures." She looked bewildered and Mycroft's mouth tightened at her obvious confusion.  
"Hacked clearly." He murmured to Sherlock, keeping his voice low.  
"Charles ..." Sherlock's voice was barely audible. He knew Mycroft could deduce the governess was innocent almost as fast as he had. The shocked swallow before she'd spoken betrayed her utter shock.  
Milne scoffed incredulously.... "Nevertheless the images came from your own personal social media."  
"Objection....there is no proof Miss Vesterguaard herself uploaded those photographs, " Aric did his best to defend his witness amid a rising tide of Alpha disapproval until the Legate was forced to hammer down the gavel.

Milne took a moment..... "Did you agree not to discuss Aleksander's daily routine with anyone outside of the people named in your contract, Miss Vesterguaard?"  
"I did." Miss Vesterguaard still seemed shaken and kept staring at the screen in sheer disbelief.  
"It was agreed that any problems you felt were of a serious nature were to be discussed with Mr Magnussen in person?"  
"Yes..."  
"In fact Miss Vesterguaard, Mr Magnussen allowed you some time weekly to do just that with him in a one to one meeting did he not?"  
"Yes. He did."  
Milne didn't allow her time to say more than a few words...."Despite his demanding schedule, as any caring father would, he made time to check on his son." He leant both hands upon the front of the witness box. "You'd bought several such issues to the attention of Mr Magnussen in the weeks leading up to your resignation had you not? I have a list here from Mr Magnussen's own diary, if I may submit it as an exhibit.... ? As you'll see Legate the list includes complaints about Aleksander's bed wetting, night time crying, refusal to eat certain foods, tantrum behaviour....."  
"Objection....Miss Vesterguarrd is not on trial here!" Weber's voice was raised as he attempted to defend his witness.  
"Over ruled," the Legate replied sharply. "It's a substantial list of complaints regarding a five year old child, Miss Vesterguaard?" He spoke directly to the witness, openly surprised by the list of problems he'd just read.  
"I.... Aleksander could be difficult." Her voice faltered. 

"Although you initially accepted the position would be accurate to say you felt you had made a mistake in doing so within weeks?" Milne was quick to ask his next question, allowing her no time to think.  
"No.... "  
"It isn't true to say that you found caring for Aleksander taxing?" Milne let his disbelief show.  
"No...."  
"No....? You didn't express doubts to Mr Magnussen about your suitability to act as governess to such a young child? Mr Magnussen is prepared to testify that you did and that, in fact, on the day you resigned, you had approached him asking to be allowed to correct his son physically? That's true is it not?"  
"Yes....but ...."  
Milne talked over the witness . "Legate....Charles Magnussen will testify that it was only when permission to discipline his son physically was refused that Miss Vesterguaard claimed she had no option but to resign?" Milne made Charles low opinion of the witnesses capabilities very obvious.  
Miss Vesterguaard's voice revealed how upset she was by the accusations. "The child was prone to hysteria... In my personal opinion a light smack would have stopped him from screaming. I have been a governess for many years.... my professional advice has never been doubted before... "

"Blah...blah...blah... Excuses from an incompetent! What kind of governess needs to strike a small Alpha boy" Alexei made sure his low dismissive comment was audible.  
The Legate hammered down the gavel...."This is my court. I will not permit the open ridicule of a witness giving testimony within it. Should it happen again I will not hesitate to hold you, Count Alexei, in contempt. Despite your high rank outside of this court you would do well to recall that inside this room none outrank me!" The Legate raised his voice in authority and the scattered laughter from the Alpha side of the court fell silent at once as Alexei subsided moodily, a strangely amused smile on his face.

"You told Mr Magnussen that in your opinion his son was very young to be physically separated from an Omega mother? Is that still your opinion?" Milne paced forward towards the witness.  
"It is. The child clearly lacked the loving care of an Omega mother. Scent bonding is important to an Alpha child...the anxiety was typical of a child who was deprived of that...."  
Milne leant both hands on the witness box and interrupted quickly..."Of course he is affected. What young child wouldn't want his mother back and feel rejected under these circumstances?.... Were you aware that Mr Magnussen was making strenuous efforts to locate and bring home his Omega to prevent just such a painful impact on the life of his son?"  
"I was not. It was never discussed with me..."  
"And why would it be? A deeply distressing personal loss of that nature....his bond mate taken away by another, unbonded, Alpha. Naturally he would find discussing his loss difficult. Would you agree, Miss Vesterguaard?"  
"I.... I would agree. Yes." Miss Vesterguaard reacted to the reminder of her lower rank, flushed with embarrassment.  
"Yet you considered that you....yourself ...a mere employee.... knew enough to lecture Mr Magnussen on the impact of Sherlock's absence? An absence that Mr Magnussen neither wanted nor has ever accepted as legal? A personal and very private loss that has left him without his bond mate for so long!" Milne let the magnitude of that sink in. "You were completely unaware that he had spent a great deal of money and time desperately trying to find Sherlock in the hope that Aleksander would be reunited with his mother?"  
Sherlock took a deep breath in...recollection of the fear he'd had for all those months at the cabin, that Charles would find them, hitting him hard as he was reminded of how close they'd came to being discovered .  
"I had no idea, he was attempting to bring his Omega home," Miss Vesterguarrd confessed.  
Milne was dismissive "No. You did not and indeed it was not your place to have an opinion on the matter was it? You were there to do the job for which you were paid, not to meddle in a situation that did not concern you. In truth, you shouldn't be here today if you abided by the contract you signed as an employee!"  
Miss Vesterguaard flushed in humiliation.

"Have you been employed in other Elite families where the Omega parent was still in their own teenage years?"  
Sherlock's inky gaze watched Milne warily as the lawyer walked close to him before turning away.  
"Yes .... I have worked for several other families with an teenage Omega birth parent. Though both were several years older than Sherlock when they first became mothers...."  
"And have any of these other teenage birth parents left the family home and abandoned their own child.?" Milne asked immediately.  
"Objection....! Sherlock's reasons for doing so are still in the process of being explained" Weber tried and failed to get the Legate's attention with his objection as the Alpha side of the court reacted to Milne's emotive words by stamping their feet noisily on the wooden boards of the Court and the Legate was forced to bring down the gavel and call for silence.

Milne continued seamlessly and quickly, rushing to ask his next question despite Weber's calls of protest amid the uneasy muttering coming from the Alpha side of the room ..."In fact in all your years as governess have you ever known of an Omega who ran away with an unbonded Alpha and left his child motherless?" he persisted loudly.  
The Legate hammered down the gavel, calling for silence and order..... and an uneasy, mutinous silence fell just as Miss Vesterguarrd replied stiffly....." No. I have not."  
"No? You have not? In all your years of work no Omega has run away with one of his Alpha's employees, leaving his child behind him?" Milne stressed that fact.  
"No I have not. I've never known of an Omega who left his child behind willingly before this." Miss Vesterguaard was driven to admit  
"Objection....." Weber roared across the noisy court as the Alpha side erupted into open dissent.

"Call yourself a mother!"  
"You're no mother!" One Alpha roared.  
"Go home! Go home! Go home!" The chant began and rose in volume quickly as more and more voices joined in.  
One by one the Omega stood up in silent protest. Their bodies making a wall that hid Sherlock from view to a good three quarters of the Alpha side of the court.  
"Usher remove those men I hold them all in contempt!" The Legate was furious at the debacle Milne had unleashed.  
The usher took a step towards the Omega before the Legate's angry voice stopped him in his tracks...."The Alpha side. Are you blind man? Remove all those shouting from the Alpha side of my court!"

There was a series of brief but furious scuffles and more ushers hurried to support the efforts of the first as several Alpha were manhandled out into the central aisle to be taken down to the cells below.  
Fighting against their removal broke out in the aisle as one Alpha threw a punch and in the mêlée another broke free and managed to take the two steps that was enough to bring him into the Omega side of the courtroom. Almost close enough to reach out and grab hold of Sherlock as he snarled at the Omega, a bloody froth flying from his mouth as his Alpha fangs descended and broke the gum. "You damn little... whore! You're not fit to be a mother!"

"I'm not fit? Because I fled in fear of my life? I'm not fit?" Sherlock exploded onto his feet, white faced and furious...." He beat me and raped me, I was terrified he'd kill me!... What kind of sick idiot are you!"  
Mycroft staggered as the enraged Alpha made a lunge for Sherlock past him and suddenly another man came out of nowhere.... made a run for the table edge, caught hold and successfully forced it back towards Sherlock, aiming to drive it hard into the Omega's body.  
Riddick dragged Sherlock backwards... stopping the heavy wooden table dead with his own body. Sherlock heard him give a grunt of pain as the hard edge struck him. "Get the fuck away from him you bastards! "Riddick braced his body against the two Alpha, shielding Sherlock as best he could, using his core strength to shove back as both Elite Alpha on the other side fought to drive the heavy table inwards to ram it's edge into Sherlock. John caught hold and heaved alongside Alan and Riddick saw a chance and lashed out. His fist coming up fast, punching one Alpha backwards, hitting him hard in the throat and sending him reeling.

Mycroft was on his feet , trapped in between table and chair, stood pale faced and openly shocked... nevertheless he kept himself between the clutching hands reaching out for his brother and the open hatred that saw his bespoke suit covered in bloody spittle as the man snarled across him at Sherlock.  
" Omega whore!"  
"It's a set up! To get at Sherlock!" Alan roared at John. "Get him out of here before Sherlock gets hurt!"

John sped around the table to rugby tackle the Alpha away and down to the floor... yelling at the Ushers to do their job as they fought to move the irate Alpha back.  
Sherlock didn't react beyond flinching backward into his seat and pulling one knee up. Covering Neep as best he could, protecting his belly and the baby within as the Alpha was dragged away, still spitting raw hate. Beneath the long table his other leg began to vibrate then shake violently...  
"You're safe lad. I've got you!" Alan pulled Sherlock sideways, into his protection.

"Silence!" When finally the Legate had wrestled back command of his half empty court he took a sip of water before speaking, hoarse from yelling for order, over and over. His hooded eyes swept his court noting Sherlock hunched into Riddick's side, John's agitation and Mycroft's pale faced shock....on the other side of his court Charles Magnussen sat impassively while beside him Alexei's face was full of a fiercely savage excitement...On the witness stand an ashen faced Miss Vesterguaard remained shakily in place and in a tight little group the few Omega on Sherlock's side of the court stood together.  
"Do you wish to continue cross examination Mr Milne." The Legate asked reluctantly as tradition dictated he do.  
Milne turned to acknowledge Magnussen before replying, smug triumph all over his face ...... "No further questions, Legate."


	65. Close To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary uses scent to get closer to John....before flying out to wait for her next target ....  
> CAM shows just how far his web extends and who is already caught in it.....  
> Greg's team find another body.....but its been there a while.
> 
> Alan finds sharing a bed with Sherlock post sex a bit less romantic than usual and does something about it to get things back on track.....  
> Sherlock tries to help Mycroft....confusing Alan and Greg in the process....  
> Mycroft has his mind made up for him....in a good way!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK....I know I've left the Greg/Mycroft situation on the edge of something.... I want to give that conversation between them it's own update.
> 
> Loons means madmen.
> 
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Too Good by Troye Sivan

John was hit by a sudden blast of icy cold air as the passenger door opened and Mary got into the front seat, slamming the car door twice before she closed it properly.  
"Thanks so much for this, John.... I've no idea why my car won't start.... If I'd known it was going to snow I'd have pre-booked a taxi." She smiled at him from the passenger seat, blonde hair spilling over the collar of her baby blue fake fur jacket "I can't miss my flight. Everything's so busy the bank holiday weekend."  
"No worries, we'll make it," John said as he pulled out into traffic.

Mary sat and rifled through the huge red handbag on her lap. Out of the corner of his eye John spotted a red furry monkey keyring swinging from the side of her bag and found himself letting out a sigh. Why did he care if she had a monkey on her bag? The only reason he found it annoyingly childish was probably because he'd got in late enough to be early and had barely any sleep.  
"Seriously John .... you're amazing, I don't know what I'd have done without you coming to my rescue." She beamed at John and he found himself distracted by her shiny pink, sticky looking lipstick.  
As the car idled at the corner before turning out onto the high street Mary turned her head to look out the passenger window...."MAGNUSSEN OMEGA FACES BOND COURT RIOT," she read the headline visible on the newpaper stand aloud and John looked over at her before turning onto the main road.  
"It wasn't a riot." John said flatly and pulled out into the first gap he saw in the traffic.. 

"They were talking about it again on Question Time last night...." Mary pulled out her make up bag and began deftly applying some blue-black mascara as they neared the airport....  
"One of these days you'll poke yourself in the eye?" John said, changing the subject; as he indicated, pulled into the fast lane of the motorway and put his foot down.  
" I've been doing this years and I've very steady hands. Touch wood I've never even smudged it...." Mary reached out and tapped a finger to the side of John's temple jokingly as she said touch wood, before she continued talking about the TV show about Sherlock. "It's so unfair, John. I mean, yes he left his baby behind but I mean, you can totally see why he did it.....He must have been living in fear with an Alpha like that...."  
"You don't believe the headlines? They've been pretty negative against Sherlock as a mother," John was relieved to find someone who didn't agree with them.....  
"I like to make my own mind up....not have it decided for me. I think what he's been through is horrific... the abuse, everything... He looks traumatised." Mary lied. She felt no empathy....nothing at all .... as she zipped up her glittery make up bag.  
"He's tough," John knew the word didn't begin to cover it. Sherlock's refusal to give in was much more than just that.  
"He must be, but still , he's so young..." Mary made sure her voice oozed sincerity.. "It can't have have been easy for you either, John, or his family...."  
"He's home now...." John replied and hit the horn as another driver drifted over in front of him.

"You know you look exhausted. Did you get any sleep?" Mary asked kindly.  
"Thinks haven't been ....great ....between Saul and me, since Sherlock came home. Its caused some problems,. Saul's Alpha so... he's struggling with Sherlock being Elite Omega, that's all." John admitted.  
Mary watched him closely as he spoke. So he was in love with Sherlock and the boyfriend, Saul, didn't like that.... "I didn't realise ...."  
"That I'm tri-sexual? Yeah.... Problem?" John was defensive...it always felt like he had to justify failing to find an Omega or a Beta to settle down with. The majority of Alpha guys had a clear preference, most for Omega males.... knotting was that fundamental a need for an Alpha.... Any deviation from the norm still wasn't widely accepted.  
"No, John.... not that....I mean, that makes no difference at all. Why would it? We're all of us just people, all the same under our skin. I meant.... I didn't realise you had any problems in your relationship...." Mary said sympathetically. Finally! This was her 'in' and she knew it!

John let her sensible words sink in, feeling guilty that he'd misjudged her again.....he offered her an explanation by way of apology. "Things are tense, we argue a lot." He was being honest. Lately he and Saul had done nothing but argue.  
Mary laid a hand on his thigh briefly , removing it almost as soon as it touched him before it felt uncomfortably intimate.... "Look," she said. "Say no if you want... I won't be at all offended but honestly you'll be doing me a huge favour.... My flat is just going to be sitting there empty.... there's a spare bedroom....You are welcome to stay while I'm away...."  
"I can't do that," John's automatic reaction was to say no.....  
"Of course you can.... I won't need to worry about being burgled .....there's been a few robberies locally...." Mary rumaged through her huge handbag....pulling out her keys..... Appeal to his helpful nature. Easy...."Honestly John , you'd be the one helping me out...."  
"Well.... if you're sure?" John said. A break from the tense, silently resentful mood at Saul's would be good.  
"We're friends, John .... of course I'm sure. 100%." Mary unzipped her fur bomber jacket as John turned onto the road that led to the airport terminal.... pulling the jacket open wide to reveal the blouse beneath as though she were too hot.

Before she got out the car she turned in her seat to face John.... "You know John, to be able to keep giving you have to make sure you take a little time out for yourself ....If you're going to be there for Sherlock when he needs you.... you have to give yourself the space to breathe you need sometimes.... "  
John found himself staring into Mary's wide set, eyes.... smelling the warm, almost familiar, vanilla scent of her perfume..... and knew his eyes had dropped to her glossy lips almost automatically....  
Every breath he took was filled with an intense vanilla sweetness that reminded him of Sherlock's own scent. Why hadn't he noticed how good she smelt before....?  
"Thanks so much for the lift John...." Mary leant a little closer and leant a hand on his arm. "You're such a good person..."  
John knew the second she realised he was thinking of kissing her by the pleased, girlish flush that coloured her cheeks.... he felt obliged to go ahead and try it then.

As Mary walked through the airport pulling her wheeled case behind her she was smiling.... not the simpering girly smile she showed John but the hard , bright smile of someone who was no innocent.  
Inside the disabled toilet she stood and stripped to her white lacey bra , pulled her blouse out of her waistband and dropped it to the ground.... kicking it away with distaste before taking off her bra and tossing it down alongside the discarded shirt.  
She took out some wet wipes from her bag and scrubbed at her naked skin, under and over her breasts, cleaning as high as her collar bones and downwardsl over her stomach, until it bore no trace of the vanilla scent that was not her own.  
Stood topless she lifted her wheeled case up onto the vanity unit by the hand basin and unzipped it to take out a deordorant which she sprayed liberally under both arms, and a plain black sports bra and close fitting t-shirt. She fixed her blonde hair, fastening it into a simple pony tail and bundled the girlish fur jacket away into her case , choosing a more practical and plain puffa jacket to wear instead.  
Her phone beeped, alerting her to a new text and she glanced at the screen then rapidly sent a reply before leaving the white bra and the pale blue blouse on the floor where they lay as she exited the toilet, closing the door behind her.

Inside the airport coffee shop she took the back booth, sipped her expresso and watched as the man she'd arranged to meet here came towards her and took the seat across from her own at the tiny table.  
"Well?"  
"You were right. It worked. The scent made him much easier to manipulate. He accepted the invitation to stay in my flat. " Mary wasted no time on small talk.  
"He was attracted to you?" Magnussen asked, his distaste at that notion insultingly clear.  
"He is easily attracted to people," Mary blinked.... " I kept his hands on my upper body but once he scented me he was hard. I did check...."  
"You mean once he scented Sherlock," Magnussen corrected her..."And the blouse you wore....where is it now?" Charles asked, his cold blue eyes on her own. Checking for signs she was telling him the truth.  
"Left on the floor of the toilet. John's hands were all over it. I didn't think you'd want it back... " There was no sign of reaction on the detached face watching her as she spoke and she made sure to keep her own face carefully blank.  
"He suspected nothing ?"  
"Nothing.... he had his face buried in the blouse and my breasts. He didn't think for one second that that scent wasn't part of me." Mary enjoyed the trickery.  
"Good." Magnussen barely spoke. Sacrificing even one the many shirts Sherlock had left behind him when he'd fled had been a necessity he regretted.... the lingering scent of his Omega on the clothes that still hung in Sherlock's dressing rooms had proved an aid to masturbation that provided him with a sharp, almost painful release....  
It grieved him to part with anything Sherlock had touched.... however, once reshaped into a feminine ladies blouse by a talented tailor.... the garment he had provided for Mary to wear, still carried enough of Sherlock's enticing vanilla scent to act upon the scent receptors in his nose and brain.... to arouse John almost instinctively. 

"Everything is staged exactly as I told you?" Magnussen had given strict instructions.  
"Yes. Everything he'll see will reinforce his opinion of me as a caring, good person. The scented items you gave me have been placed throughout my rooms." She was used to the blank emptiness in the eyes of the man watching her but even so it still left her uneasy being unable to tell if he was satisfied or displeased.  
"And the other matter.... Riddick's drug addict relative?" Magnussen questioned her.  
"In the bedroom.... I closed the window and switched the heating to high so the smell should soon be detected...." Mary's smile was one of pure pleasure. That part of the job had been fun... a very different type of kill. "I have photographs if you need proof...?"  
Charles remained impassive not even deigning to reply.

"The directions for the second strike.... you are sure you wish it changed?" Mary knew she'd made an error asking for that clarification from the sudden narrowing of Magnussen's eyes.  
"Never make the mistake of questioning my instructions. Do the job for which you have been promised payment.... exactly that and no more....Now say you understand me.... or must I have him send me a replacement prepared to tie up all loose ends, including yourself....?" The threat was laid bare.  
"I understand you," Mary promised, nervous despite herself. Displease Moriarty and die an excuriatingly inventive death. She knew that.  
"Then, make sure it is done without deviation or mishap." Without another word Charles stood up abruptly as though being there suddenly annoyed him and walked away, vanishing among the crowd within moments.

 

Greg stood in the dim evening night inside the empty brick walls of a roofless old factory and watched snow flakes drift and settle on the tent covering his crime scene. "Well Anderson? What do you have for me? Is it another Elite Omega?"  
"Hard to tell....decomposition is advanced. Some kind of animal has been at the body.... a lot of the soft tissues are gone..... I'd bet on the corpse being out here for at least a year."  
"Christ.... we won't get much forensic wise for the body or the scene?" Greg was frustrated... but then it had been that kind of day, since Mycroft had turned away from him back at the court..... "Get the body back to Molly at the morgue... tell her I'm sorry but she only has tonight. I'll need whatever she can find out by the morning...." Greg was rarely impatient but the death toll looked like it'd just risen and he was no closer to catching the killer or killers. "I want a full set of photos, get some lamps in here and get this place picked through like you're looking for a pin. If there is anything here we can use to crack this case I want it found...."  
He walked up to the entrance to the crime scene tent and stood looking in at the jutting bone amid the rags and rubbish that had revealed the body to the shocked, homeless teenagers who had broken in here to get high on Spice and sleep it off after. Their grimy sleeping bags were still over by the wall...."Sally, we'll get statements from that lot. Tonight. They don't leave till it's done. Lets see if any of them will accept social services help..... We can't be sure they didn't disturb the body before they called us. Sam, you make sure you get DNA swabs from every one.... the scenes compromised enough already, we'll need to rule them out."  
Greg crouched down...close to the skeletal tattered remains.."What's that over the face?"  
"Looks like it was some kind of gag...." came the chilling reply. 

It was almost midnight by the time the body was lifted and respectfully removed from the derelict site where it had lain discarded like so much garbage for so long.  
"Want to go for a drink, Greg?" All of Scotland Yard knew which bars were open and which landlords didn't mind a few detectives having a lock in and getting quietly drunk.  
Greg looked up from this phone..... the nine words of Sherlock's last text illuminated on the screen....  
HE DOES FEEL. HE FEELS TOO MUCH. THAT'S ALL  
He slipped the phone into his coat pocket after replying.... Sherlock meant well but after the long night he'd had, working out what was wrong with Mycroft or how to fix it felt like too big a problem to solve. He needed some sleep.... "No thanks. I'm off home Sally. You have a good one."

"Jesus H Christ! That's ruddy freezing!" Alan was sat on the coffee table in his boxer briefs and nothing else.  
"It has to be cold for bruising.... it's hot for muscle strains. I Googled it. You can't argue with medical advice from Google. Do you want me to help or not?" Sherlock had a load of ice cubes in a wet cold cloth and was pressing it against Alan's bare skin, low down under his ribs. Everytime he did Alan inched away from the frozen wetness.  
"Aye but...."  
"Stop being a baby," Sherlock chided softly.....  
"Me .... a baby? I've done my own stitches to a cut before now without owt to deaden it...." Alan protested.  
"Yes... you, Mr 'I Did My Own Stitches Once But A Cold Cloth And Some Ice And I Complain Endlessly'," Sherlock's voice was full of an amused love as he lifted the wet cloth away , revealing a vivid purplish bruise spreading below Riddick's ribs and bent to press his lips to it before resting his cheek against it lightly.. "There that's not cold..."  
Alan shivered at the heated touch.  
Sherlock sat back on his heels and slid his hand meaningfully along Riddick's thigh muscle, up towards his groin  
"Door's open..... Mrs Hudson could come up and see us...." Riddick warned Sherlock quietly, his voice already altered by the desire fast overwhelming him.  
"No she won't," Sherlock touched his lips to Alan's skin again ...."I texted her and told her we were giving each other erotic massages again." Walking in on them doing that once, apparently wasn't something even the tolerant Mrs Hudson ever wanted to happen again so they'd agreed on a early warning 'text before you sex' system.  
"Oh aye? Is that who you were texting all the way through dinner?" Alan had wondered. "I could barely get a word out of you." He was pleased it wasn't John.....  
"That was Mrs Hudson twice , Mycroft twenty seven times and Greg all the other times." Sherlock avoided saying that Greg had finally stopped replying after telling him to concentrate on Alan and stop annoying him when he was working. "I think I can help him fix things with Mycroft."

"Thought we agreed to leave well alone between your brother and Greg?" Alan worried that Sherlock's 'help' would end in an argument.  
Sherlock's elegant marred finger tips, with their calloused tips from too much violin playing, reached Alan's boxer briefs and stroked a seam in the stitching as he spoke. "You talked to Mycroft like I wanted...." he said before bending his head to kiss Alan's knee.

Riddick laughed... "What makes you think I did that?" He waited for a long list of deductions about pulse, tell tale eye movements and blink rate.  
Sherlock placed his palm over the bulge of Alan's thick cock.... "You love me, of course you'd do it for me," he said simply. "You'd do anything for me...." The words were full of sexual suggestion as he went up on both knees and leant forward to kiss the taut musclature of Riddick's lower torso.  
Alan spread his knees wider to give Sherlock more room to get closer..... "Aye, I would. God help me.... Is this my thank you, then, all the kisses?" He was pleased to manage some kind of a reply.... hard already, all his thoughts and words were blurring into the inchoalate melting pot of desire.  
Sherlock looked up, all long lashed inky blue eyes and soft pink lips and saw Alan staring down at him, hopelessly smitten....  
"No.... those are because I love you and I'd do anything for you.... _This _is your thank you..." Sherlock said and lowered his mouth to the thick turgidity of Riddick's cock through the dark cotton.__

____

Mycroft sat in the back seat of his car and watched the lights in what he knew to be Gregory's bedroom flick on... they were followed within minutes by the bathroom light.  
Gregory was probably showering..... washing away the grime of a day at work, hot water and suds cascading down his naked body.  
Mycroft was unsettled to find his mind lingering on even that vague idea and rapidly building it into a more detailed scenario..... while the exact details of Gregory's naked body remained elusively vague he was in no doubt the scene was about to rapidly descend into territory usually covered by gay pornography.  
Whatever had become of his self control?  
"Drive on!" he said rapidly. "Circle the block again."

Exactly half an hour later Mycroft was back, parked in almost exactly the same place.  
Eyeballing a London fox as it prowled along the empty street. Knowing Sherlock would love it he took a photo and startled by the flash, the fox sped off down the empty road  
Again and again he ran through what he could say in his mind.  
How to begin and and how to continue?  
'Gregory....I was just passing by....'  
The clatter of bin lids further down the cul-de-sac as the fox grabbed a late night meal from somebodies bin, revealed the absurdity of that statement. Who on earth 'just passed by' when the street concerned was a cul-de-sac!  
The fact that the road was a dead end felt morbidly symbolic.....the end of all his hopes that finally he'd met someone.....  
Sherlock's incoming text lit up his screen.... just as Greg turned off his bedroom light...  
It felt like yet another bleakly symbolic portent... 

 

Alan lay in bed and watched Sherlock's fingers fly over the keypad of his phone in the darkened room as fast as they did over his violin strings. "Don't much recall your come down involving a lot of texting before tonight..." he said mildly, "or have I lost my touch?"  
Sherlock blinked as though he'd just arrived back in his own body a bit too fast as he registered what had been said.... "What?....NO!... Definately not!"  
"Well normally.... after like.... we'd be hugged up and kissing by now...." Alan just laid that fact out there. He couldn't help how he felt about it not happening showing.  
Sherlock rolled over as fast as he could, now his body resembled someone who'd swallowed a fairly big cantelope melon whole. "You're upset...." he sounded horrified, "I've upset you. Haven't I?"  
Riddick didn't deny it. "I'm just used to us being one way lad... affectionate.... that's all." It felt a bit bloody childish to say he wanted a bit of a cuddle after.  
Sherlock sat up then carefully came forward onto all fours , pressing kisses directly over Alan's beating heart then more into his mouth. "I love you," he promised.  
Alan kissed back.... he could sense a 'but' here even as Sherlock's lips parted willingly under his... the lad still seemed half distracted... "May as well spit it out lad. What's going on with the texting..?"

"It's Mycroft.... he's parked and driven away from Greg's house multiple times now without going in.... I think he's in serious danger of losing his mind," Sherlock said as he settled his head alongside Alan's on the same pillow.  
"He's ruddy what...? What the Hell is he messing around doing that for?" Alan was baffled. His dopamine saturated post-sex brain struggling to keep up.... "Did you tell him to get the bloody Hell out the car and ring the bell?"  
"Of course," Sherlock said. "The first five times he pulled up.... I even sent him advice on what to do if Greg sees him."  
Bloody Hell! Alan held his hand out...."Phone.... Hand it over." As soon as it landed in his palm he squinted at the screen.... "Is that a fox?"  
Sherlock nodded. "Beautiful isn't it? It was right next to the car, Mycroft said...."  
"Aye....What a stunner! Remember that white one we saw in Finland.... the night you were going on about your man in the shops 'weirdly false and identical teeth'?" He smiled remembering how jealous Sherlock had been that night.  
Sherlock blushed..."I thought you'd forgotten about that." He still sounded embarassed.  
"Never happening lad," Alan grinned widely. "That story is one for Neep. Family history.... First time I was sure you were starting to fancy me.... that kiss in the car was bloody incredible."  
"You can't tell him that, no child wants to think about their parents snogging each other...." Sherlock was laughing. "You'll traumatise him for life."  
"He'll get over it. Besides he'll grow up seeing it...I'm never going to stop snogging you," Alan said with certainty.

 

"You can't phone Mycroft...." Sherlock looked anxious.  
Alan scrolled through Sherlock's contact list.... it'd got a bit longer of late with Ray and Louis both added.... and hit a name. He switched the phone to loudspeaker so the lad could listen in. "Can't I....?" he teased...  
It took a few minutes before a sleepy voice was on the other end of the call. "Sherlock.... this had better be the breakthrough of the year case wise....and not you asking what percentage of cholera deaths in Whitechapel during the 1800s were probably murders." Greg's voice was slurred by sleep.  
"It's me not the lad...." Riddick's familiar accent was instantly recognisable.  
" Alan? Sherlock and the baby both ok?" Greg was instantly worried that it could be the baby, after the stress Sherlock had been put through in court.  
"He's fine...."Alan said. "Looked out your window lately? You've got yourself a lurker...."  
"Oh my God ..... you can't say that! Mycroft isn't lurking... Greg, its more like the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet....except with a car... Romantic not creepy" Sherlock's appalled voice sounded equally thrilled by Riddick's bluntness.  
"Just telling the man how it is....your brother's lingering about like last night's fish supper..." Alan teased.

Greg looked at the luminous clock face. It was four in the morning.... "Mycroft's outside my house?"  
"Not exactly.... Hello by the way....." Sherlock answered him.  
"Then where exactly is he? And hello, Sherlock..." Greg needed some answers.  
"He may be outside your house.... or he may be driving round the block for .... I think it'd be the 9th time by now .... Each circuit takes half an hour...he could be low on petrol but that's a variable I can't predict and anyway there's a garage on the corner... No, odds are he's parked outside again by now." Sherlock worked out the probabilities as fast as he could.....  
Greg got out of bed and went to the window, taking care not to be seen.... across the street a familiar black car with its headlights off was silently parked by the Higgins bins.

"Do you, or Alan.... want to tell me whats going on here, Sherlock?" Greg pulled on his old dressing gown... "Anyyyy time you're ready...."  
"I can't tell you...." Sherlock sounded conflicted. "I know what happened.... he didn't tell me....I deduced it." He moved to settle into Alan's out flung arm , resting his face against Alan's chest... as he spoke Riddick pulled the blankets up over him and began running a thumb over the bite on the nape of his neck gently....  
"Can't or won't?" Greg asked. "You know I've tried talking to him about it? Telling him it's no big deal. He has walls up you can't get around... I can't be in another relationship like that....He knew that from the start...."  
"Please give him a chance...." Sherlock was pleading suddenly. "I know how it probably looked but he's a whole different person... under the suits...."  
Greg heard the brotherly love behind the words.  
"He likes you....and he never likes anybody , like that...." Sherlock said.  
Greg heard the words in silence.... still conflicted.  
" He has .... reasons," Sherlock couldn't say more.. It had to be Mycroft who said it...

"Please Greg .... he knows what to do when he gets inside now.. I sent him detailed instructions.... on his phone so he can look at them if his mind goes blank at any time...." Sherlock was talking at speed, desperate to convince Greg to give Mycroft another chance.  
Alan was aware of his lower jaw opening slowly.....  
"Instructions......? You gave Mycroft instructions...on that?" Greg was left repeating the mad words like a parrot.... What the Hell! This was insane!  
"Detailed ones.... I broke it down into four basic stages...." Sherlock said helpfully. "He may not be able to do all of them in one night but definately he wants to try stage one tonight.... He texted me and said so."  
Alan shut his gaping mouth with an audible click of teeth that turned the lad's head around and had him leaning up to see what was wrong...  
"What?" Sherlock sounded confused by Alan's reaction.  
"These ....um, stages.... ?" Alan began. Greg could heard the incredulity in Riddick's voice.... "You sure he can't manage to work them out for himself?"  
"Of course he can't.... he needs help. That's one of the reasons I asked you to talk to him." Surely Alan had realised that?

Greg sat down on the bed a bit too suddenly. Alan had talked to Mycroft? About sex ?....So had Mycroft talked back? It was hard to imagine..... actually no it wasn't.... more catastrophic! BLOODY HELL.  
"Aye and I got the impression he was up for.... trying again..." Alan resorted to vaguaries. "I'm not sure he needs diagrams or owt like that... I mean Greg's experienced.... Mycroft's an Alpha..... Show a dog the rabbit and he's away .... You know what I mean, lad."  
Greg found himself staring mutely at the phone. What the literal HELL? Had Alan damn Riddick just compared him to a rabbit?

__

"Alan.... What... _exactly _.... do you and Greg think I'm talking about? " Sherlock checked, his voice dubious....__  
"Fucking.... You are aren't you? " Riddick sounded equally confused now....  
Sherlock collapsed sideways onto the bed shaking with laughter......"Oh... my .... God.....What?.... No!... That's my brother... Ewww.... That's just.... Disturbing!"  
"Thanks...." Greg said mildly.  
Sherlock flushed a vivid awkward red and was suddenly lost for words.... "I didn't mean.... Not you and him, that's not disgusting..... Not what I meant ..... I want him to date you....almost as much as he wants too." There was a short disconcerted pause as a stricken Sherlock took a breath..... "I haven't messed it up for him have I?Greg you have to _know _how he feels about you?"__

____

"I'll go get him." Greg said. As soon as he said it he knew it was the right decision. So Mycroft did want this to be something... What the Heck was he doing wasting time then?  
"Right you are .... job done! That's your brother sorted...." Alan said briskly. Satisfaction clear in his tone "We can get back to having a cuddle now...unless you've more you want to say, lad?" He paused and Greg was almost sure he heard the sound of kissing...  
"Night Greg," Sherlock's voice sounded so soft and happy.  
" Aye ... good luck with it..." Riddick's voice was changed too ... full of love.  
" End the call and get to bed you pair of loons!" Greg said with a wry grin.

Mycroft had almost arranged what he needed to say....  
A few phrases ....still remained elusive....  
The street was silent and still now that the fox had disappeared....only the street lights remained on and there was only one single person to be seen.... walking purposely towards Mycroft's car in pyjama's, dressing gown and what looked to be a pair of trainers....  
A somewhat incongruous choice of footwear to pair with sleep attire yet possibly this individual didn't own slippers.....  
Gregory didn't own slippers..... He was forever bare foot in the house....  
He did however own a pair of identical trainers to the one's this individual was wearing....  
There was a knock on the tinted glass of the car window.  
Alarmed Mycroft moved his gaze upwards to the face of the figure stood right outside his car window.....  
Gregory!

As his heart rate accelerated sharply, Mycroft flung the car door open and within seconds found himself stood on the path in the bright white illumination of a street light.  
"I.... I...." he narrowly avoided saying he was just passing..... "Gregory... I realise my actions at the court earlier may have made you think.... that I was ...no longer.... interested...." Mycroft spoke quietly, aware of sleeping neighbours mere gardens away.  
Greg's brown eyes looked darker under the artificial light that lit his hair so brightly it looked almost white. "You ready to try and talk about this....?" He was unusually blunt. It was almost painful to see someone as articulate as Mycroft struggling to communicate...  
"I... Yes..." Mycroft's fingers closed round the mobile phone in this pocket... Sherlock's instructions still on screen... STAGE 1 APOLOGY. REPEAT AS NEEDED ..... "I realise ...I appeared unwilling... to talk ....It wasn't my intention..."

Greg bent down and spoke direct to the chauffeur. "You can go home mate...This is going to take a while.."  
The man's eyes went straight to Mycroft to confirm the order....  
Mycroft gave a simple nod.  
Gregory shut the car door firmly, "Let's go home...." he said.


	66. Find A way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft find talking harder than they'd hoped.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK you'll have to trust me here..... Mycroft is a good person ..... That's a promise....All will be explained.....
> 
> Track is You Worry Me by Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats....sorry for confusion..

As always Gregory's house was a welcoming, homely mix of smells blending together with the Omega own pleasant scent and Mycroft found himself inhaling and holding his breath to allow the warm, subtle aroma to heat him from the inside out.  
Gregory walked ahead of him down the hallway and Mycroft saw that the kitchen door was open wide and the lights already on .  
The room seemed subtly different..... On the table a single glass sat on an unwashed plate.... there was an air of loneliness..... Without the usual ebb and flow of Gregory recounting anecdotes from his day or the low sound of jazz playing ..... it felt not unlike an empty stage.  
for the first time Mycroft felt keenly aware that Gregory lived here by himself and had done so for some time before they'd ever met. If things did not go well tonight.... presumably he would continue to do so until his excellence caught another Alpha's eye.....  
Despite the gravity of his situation Mycroft couldn't keep himself from wondering.... curious always about the life Gregory lived that went unseen. What had he eaten ? What had he drunk?  
Greg was all too familiar with the Holmes brothers relentless curiosity by now.... "Pastrami bagel... from the Jewish bakery in Golders Green...."  
"Ah....." Mycroft said. He knew it well. Comfort food.

"Do you want tea or something stronger?" Greg had spent enough time with Sherlock to know what he was looking at here.... Mycroft looked as though he'd got lost inside his own labaryrntine mind.  
"Whatever you choose...." Mycroft managed. He assumed Gregory would choose an alcoholic beverage.  
"Tea then," Greg said.... "We either of us need to be very drunk or stone cold sober for this."  
Mycroft hesitated....sorry he hadn't asked for whisky. He stood in the small bright yellow kitchen with its oddly kitsch decor and watched Gregory's bare feet as the Omega made two mugs of tea.  
The normal ebb and flow of conversation was missing....He'd never seen Gregory like this.... so subdued.  
"Did you want more milk?" Greg asked as he handed the mug over.  
"No....Thank you , it's perfectly acceptable ,"Mycroft lied without compunction. Very few people could make an adequate cup of tea....the reliance on tea bags and Assam heavy blends had much to answer for..... "I suppose you saw my car?" Of course he'd drawn attention to its presence , leaving and returning in so many futile attempts to stiffen his resolve. Gregory must think him a fool. He took two mouthfuls of tea.... then another... "I don't suppose I could reconsider and request a Scotch instead....?"  
"Getting drunk won't help...."Greg said wisely. "Talking might... I'm here to listen but you have to make a start."

As always he began with Sherlock.....  
"He annoyed me to begin with.... this small, sticky fingered child intruding on my time....trying to follow me....talking to me , when I was used to silence.... questioning me all the time.... Leaning against me.... determined to impose his needs into my life. Mummy and Siger never indulged that.... type of overtly emotional behaviour." Mycroft's mouth felt dry. He took a sip of tea.... "Spending time with him, became my guilty pleasure.... I laid down terms and conditions, of course, I made him sit in silence for half an hour before I'd agree to let him talk for fifteen minutes..... I'm ashamed of it now; the lack of understanding I showed for his age.... was cruel. However demanding or peevish I was...however I behaved, he had little choice but to try again. If I refused to open the door he had nobody....he'd simply sit outside it. You see....?"  
Greg saw alright...He'd seen enough neglectful homes to know what emotional abuse was in his time on the beat.... What were the parents doing while Mycroft was losing his childhood trying to do their job for them?

"When Siger and Mummy decided to travel.... I saw it as an opportunity.... I'd began to think of Sherlock as mine..... My little brother..... I saw his abilities when everybody else overlooked them... He and I had similiar abilities...." Mycroft's mouth straightened..." It was Siger who first disabused me of the notion that I was any kind of protector. The day Mummy and Daddy came home, Sherlock and I had been out in the woods looking for edible funghi.... He was covered in mud, knees, hands, shoes and I meant to tell him to wipe his feet before going in the house, if I'd been able to keep up with him... but even then my body was never as it should be.... He ran ahead of me .... he was always so light on his feet ... By the time I reached the house Siger was already shouting.... I did my best, tried to intercede.... to explain... The most fundamental of errors.... My obvious care for him only made his victimisation more certain.... " he remembered it all too well. The mud trodden all over the marble hallway.... Siger's bellowing rage and Sherlock, stood frozen fearfully in place, a hand sized red mark across one thigh, faced with an angry bully of a parent he barely remembered. He steeled himself to say what he had seen that day.... "He'd wet himself Gregory.... that is how scared he was."  
"It wasn't your fault your father was a bully," Greg said. Even that mild statement bought Mycroft's eyes up to his to read the heartfelt emotion behind the words.

"In some regards it was.....I'd indulged Sherlock, instead of preparing him for his reality.... Now he learnt that those days were gone.... He was corrected daily. The slightest mistake.... Siger was relentless and Mummy disinterested. Of course he blamed himself.... a child he was sure his own behavior was the cause. When nothing he did worked he became quieter... Less visible.... Seeing him so unhappy affected me....negatively.... I was always an inactive bookish child , now I turned to food.... of course , without exercise I gained weight...." Mycroft was unaware his voice was muted by shame.... "Sherrinford began the teasing.... he had a talent for unkind nicknames.... and Siger found it entertaining. When I reacted in any way... it upset Sherlock.... The more they commented upon my lamentable appearance, the more I ate.... I kept food in the bedroom..... secretly.... Sherlock knew of course, he'd complain the bed was full of crumbs....." Despite himself Mycroft heard his voice change and falter... "As I grew older.... it....occurred to me.... that I could ....avoid ....the weight gain if the food I ate ....didn't remain in my stomach for long...."  
"You were bullimic?" Now Greg knew he remembered the clues he'd dismissed too easily.... The two bottles of diet pills he'd seen once in Mycroft's office.... Mycroft's hesitation to undress.....  
"No.... I _am _bulimic. I control the urge more successfully but the compulsion itself is still there." Mycroft committed to the truth. It was an integral part of Sherlock's advice. BE HONEST..... "There are still times ....when I fail to control it completely."__  
Greg unclenched his jaw, recalling the times Mycroft had excused himself soon after they'd eaten.... "You've done it here?"  
"On occasion....."

 __"Does Sherlock know?"  
"Since he was a child.... We have a tacit agreement. Some topics are best avoided.... He mostly abides by it."  
Mostly? So Sherlock was concerned enough to mention it...."You said something...that morning in your bedroom.... you said; you didn't know what I expected under the suit" Greg filled in the blanks. "I just expected you... I didn't expect Alan Riddick underneath there and I didn't want to find that either. I'm into you....but you aren't comfortable in your own body? Are you?"  
"I see it's flaws..." Mycroft admitted. " A well tailored suit helps significantly.... without it, I feel naked in more ways than one."  
"What you see when you look at yourself.... it's not what I see." Greg spoke calmly.... "I know my saying it won't make you see yourself differently but you need to believe that I like what I see.... I'm attracted to you." Greg paused for thought as realisation hit...."You're Sherlock's brother, you can do almost the same deduction thing he can..... so you already know that don't you? Which means..... there's something else stopping you from being intimate with me?"  
Greg remembered how Magnussen had sneered at him and asked him how Mycroft really felt about 'how used' he was that day...... Please God let it not be that.... or his age, again.....  
Mycroft was staring at him.... and with a jolt Greg realised he might have well have said it all aloud because somehow Mycroft _knew _.....  
"No Gregory! That isn't the reason.... Absolutely not!" Mycroft was appalled. His voice showed his genuine shock that Gregory could even think it possible....."I'm aware that....sexually.... things didn't go as you'd .... as I ..... hoped. That was entirely my own failing...."__

____

 

Greg took a deep breath, unsure how bluntness would be received..... "Do you want to date me?"  
"Of course.... I.... How is that not amply clear?" Mycroft replayed every single word they'd spoken outside and inside Gregory's house...... Perhaps he hadn't made it as obvious as he'd intended..... "Very much so."  
"Ok that's a start....."  
Mycroft looked surprised to see him smile.  
"And you're attracted to me.... sexually? Now that you've seen a bit more of me....?" Greg saw something behind Mycroft's eyes but it was gone as fast as he saw it.....  
"I think..... we both know by now that I'm _extremely _attracted too you."__  
It was the closest Mycroft had come to discussing what had happened between them.  
"You know I was ..... flattered.... It's been years since an Alpha came in his pants for me.... I was enjoying feeling like I'd got my mojo back.... " Greg felt like an idiot owning up to that.....  
Mycroft touched his own chin to check his lower jaw was in no way symbolising his utter incredulity by hanging open gormlessly..... "Flattered....?"  
"Big time.... Until you couldn't rush me out of there fast enough! Got to admit that was a buzz-kill...." Greg stood up, fetched Scotch and two glasses and poured for them both.....  
Mycroft downed his drink in one......

"Premature ejaculation...." Mycroft said it fastidiously as though the words offended him.  
"Happens to us all....." Greg ended the sentance for him.  
"Indeed.... Alan Riddick was at some pains to explain that...." Mycroft admitted ruefully.  
Greg couldn't hide his smile..... "Sherlock's idea?" It had to be. "How'd that work out?"  
Mycroft's smile was fixed but there.... "The advice.... although a quite horrific mixture of bluntness and evasion.... was surprisingly.... practical."  
"Well they do have a sex therapist.... Plus they practice enough... I'm forever having to hang about downstairs in the hall while they get some clothes on.... " Greg said honestly.  
"Once Sherlock discovers a new interest he has always had a tendancy to throw himself into perfecting it...." Mycroft said with a tactful humour.....  
"Considering how little Alan wanted to go get professional help ....it's good that it's working for them...." Greg left it at that. Let Mycroft take the hint if he chose.

Mycroft took one long, level breath in..... "I saw my own.... sex therapist, that is ..... "  
"You, had one....?" Greg was taken aback.  
"I'm an Elite Alpha who suffers from premature ejaculation, Gregory.... Naturally I was referred for treatment..... Mummy and Daddy were....."Mycroft found himself unable to end the sentence and claim they were concerned..... "Involved."  
"This wasn't the only time?" Greg knew now why Mycroft had reacted as he did.....  
"No...." Mycroft admitted reluctantly. "I've failed to .... perform as expected .... before."  
"Perform.... makes sex sound like a task you need to get through...."Greg said slowly.  
A faint flush spread over Mycroft's face.... "It's been that .... in the past."

Gregory poured them both another generous drink.... Maybe if he shared some of his own past mistakes it would help? ..... "My first was another guy at training college. It was intense.... or at least I thought it was.... but not good. I decided it wasn't for me and went down the hetero route.... met my wife, she was studying teaching.... married her before I could talk myself out of it." He took a drink.... "She wasn't faithful... I know of two but there may have been more..... and by the end of the marriage neither was I.... I met a guy in a gay bar , ended up going home with him and staying the weekend.... The wife and I both agreed we'd made a mistake in thinking what we felt was enough to base a marriage on. She kept the flat and 90% of the furnishings.... I was relieved to finally come out."  
Mycroft watched as Greg rotated the whisky bottle slowly so the gold lettering on its label caught the light.... "I moved to London.... threw myself into work and the club scene like it was going out of fashion.... By the time I came up for air I'd had my share of bad experiences with Alpha and a couple of short term relationships. One ended up fairly badly, he didn't like dating an Omega who wanted a career more than kids.... and I was sick of being seen as an Omega and potential mother before I was seen as a person so I decided work was the thing I needed to concentrate on.... Stuck to that for a while.... Then I met John.... as you do, the second you decide you aren't looking for anyone. He was no more ready for a long term, monogomous relationship then, than he is now but within a month he'd moved into mine.... We both rushed that... didn't really know each other and found out we could never work through failing to make it work....If you get me? We make better friends than we ever did lovers.... and that's it.... the total sum of my romantic past..... John was the closest I've come to seeing how I could, one day, want a bonded future with an Alpha .... until I met you, Mycroft."  
Mycroft's finger tips found Gregory's and stroked a slow line up one of Greg's fingers to his knuckle.... "He's a fool to have let you go," he said.  
"Ending things with John was my decision and the right call." On the table Greg turned Mycroft's hand over and locked his warmer fingers in among Mycroft's own..... "Your turn to talk," he said.

"At boarding school.... I was seen as the person most likely to suceed in my chosen field.... My intellect has always been considerable...." It wasn't vain was it, to admit the truth? " At university, I made more connections than I did friends but then I had Sherlock.... and in truth, in the corridors of power.... caring would only be seen as a source of weakness...." Gregory's warmer fingers tightened on Mycroft's own. "I had no romantic liasons.... until I was approached to join a club of which Siger had been a founding member..... "  
"Like a frat boy?" Greg asked.  
"In its own way... Stupidly I agreed.... That my doing so, pleased Siger, should have alerted me to the magnitude of the mistake I was making ....It did not. I was 18..." Myroft's inhalation was shaken.... "Initially I believed it be a way to increase, as though I needed such a thing, my own future influence and power. The appeal for me lay very much in discovering the innermost secrets of those who would form the new upper tier of Elite Society in the knowledge that they too would rise alongside me.....While I joined hoping to form lifelong friendships and discover the sordid secrets of some of those whom I would encounter on my rise to the top.... I failed to stop long enough to consider that they would require similar proof of my bona fides.... It became abundantly clear that they would also need to be certain that I was a man of similiar appetites as they themselves were....." He took another drink.

"Whores?" Gregory put together the clues silently.  
Mycroft answered reluctantly. "Decadence of all types.... Drinking the finest wines and gluttinous consumption of the most expensive foods. You can imagine how I struggled with that?.... Once initiated into the club I began to see more.... It had been the accepted way of doing things for years..... At club dinner parties those who served the meal were considered fair play.... They were all local boys from the town...poorer teenagers.... common Omega..... college boys.... who had no idea what they were getting themselves into..... There were a number of sexual assaults and two rapes, I knew of, but all were successfully covered up by the payment of money or by the heavier hand of intimidation.... A small number of more violent physical assaults when older Alpha brothers of the boys tried to see justice done.... I resigned from the club. I wanted no part of it.... Siger was furious.... he accused me of being less than a man still.... When I went back to Uni for that term things were difficult....he refused to pay for my living expenses and I was forced to beg Mummy to intercede.... he sent Uncle Rudi up to see me, he'd clearly been instructed to make sure I was now sexually active as an Alpha.....he questioned my room mate behind my back ..... I wasn't and it would have been impossible to fake even had I thought of such a thing...." Mycroft stared down at Gregory's fingers...."He took that news home to Mummy and via Mummy it reached Siger......" He took another mouthful of Scotch.  
"Your family has a real problem with boundaries...." Greg sympathised. He couldn't imagine his own family snooping about, prying into things that didn't concern him.  
"Among other things...." Mycroft said bleakly.

In one hard fast, bitter movement Mycroft raised his glass and drained it...holding it out almost immediately for a refill. "At Christmas... it was made quite clear to me that I should remain in my rooms at University.... " He filled his glass again ....  
"By who?" Greg's inner detective asked for the clarification as Mycroft drained the glass in one swallow and took another refill.... "Slow down...."  
"Whom.... Siger himself. I was unhappy to do so of course .... Sherlock would have a miserable Christmas, I knew that. Terribly guilty..... Christmas Eve there was a heavy fall of fresh snow as I returned from midnight service.... the quad was still and empty.... I couldn't see the beauty in its architecture .... all the abuse....power .... money.... " Mycroft pushed the glass he had just drained away across the table with a frown..."I'm rambling.... I appear to be.... a little drunk.... regretably..... drunk....."  
Greg stood up and moved the bottle away..... fetching Mycroft a glass of cold water instead.  
"London tapwater was previously the urinary by product of at least seven strangers...."Mycroft said very precisely....  
"What happened at Christmas...?" Gregory was surer by the second that something had.....  
Mycroft was staring despondantly into the glass as though he could see the fabled city of Atlantis at its bottom.... "Christmas.... present from Sherlock"... his usual precise pronounciation was slurring.... "A skecth.... I mean skecth..... no , I mean s.k.e.t.c.h...." Mycroft fought to spell the simple word.

Greg hauled Mycroft to his feet and slung the Elite Alpha's arm around his shoulders...."C'mon you lightweight.... Let's get you to bed....."  
"Bed.....? Your bed.... ? ..... Can't perform ..... You know that....." Mycroft swayed as the reached the stairs forcing Greg to steady him....  
"Whoa.... stay on your feet.... You need to sleep this off.... "  
"Not a proper.... Alpha..... Not Elite.... Not what you were.... expecting... No good....." Mycroft was mumbling....  
"That's yet to be proven...." Greg heaved Mycroft up a few stairs.... keeping his sturdy body behind the Alpha in case he toppled backwards..... he needn't have worried as Mycroft staggered and went forward..... "Shit.... You ok, Mycroft?"  
"Carpet.... moved...." Mycroft protested ridiculously.....  
"Course it did...."Greg laughed at the madness.  
On the narrow landing Greg kicked the overflowing laundry basket, full of clean shirts he had intended to iron, aside before Mycroft tripped over it and opened the spare bedroom door..... "Here you go...."  
Mycroft had already stumbled past him and with unerring accuracy had headed for Greg's own double bed..... He was sprawled upon it, face down....shoes still on his feet.....

"O Sod you.... " Greg swore softly and without anger, as he watched Mycroft burrow his head deeper into his own pillow.... "I'll have that.... thank you, in case you throw up all over it...." he said and pulled it out from beneath Mycroft's drunken head.  
Mycroft's shoes unlaced easily enough.... his dark socked feet had the same high, well defined arches Sherlock had.....  
"You..... Mycroft muttered as Greg covered him with a blanket....."Scent...like.... home...."  
Greg was taken off guard ..... "I'd compliment you back.... but you reek of Scotch..." he said.... Nevertheless he lent down and placed a kiss on Mycroft's face, close to his mouth.... "I'm leaving the bathroom light on.... try and make it before you spew up...."  
"Gregory...."Mycroft had hold of his wrist.... but his focus was all over the place.....  
Greg extricated himself with a simple move.... "I'll be in the spare room.... Knock if you need me..."  
Mycroft heaved a heartfelt sigh.... " Safe...." Suddenly he focused..... "Don't trust me...." The second of awareness was gone again...... "Can't.... Don't...."  
Gregory stayed very still.... something was seriously amiss here..... "Why can't I trust you....?" When Mycroft didn't answer he gave him a slight shake.... "Wake up!..... Mycroft.... wake up!"  
Mycroft's next mumble was impossible to understand....  
Greg shook him a bit harder.... "Mycroft... tell me!.... Why can't I trust you....? Why can't I trust you?"  
Mycroft's astute gaze was so unfocused it went past Greg as he spoke..... "Rapist....." he said once and Greg dropped his arm like a hot potato and stepped back...... 


	67. Talk Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after a hangover ..... Never a pleasant place to be.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Berk .....fool.
> 
> Ok.... I'm giving two tracks Blue....  
> Mycroft's track is Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan.  
> Greg's track is I Might by Tom Grennan.
> 
> Bit more Mycroft and Greg in the next update...like a keyhole moment.

Mycroft woke up with the unpleasant feeling that somebody may have embedded an axe in his cranuim yet somehow failed to kill him outright....  
Slowly he stretched out an investigative hand.... as expected the other side of Gregory's compact double bed remained unslept in.  
Whilst the pillow under his aching head was most definately _not _the best quality prewashed and tumbled, goose down; to Mycroft's satisfaction it still bore traces of Gregory's scent....__  
Sadly rolling carefully onto his side and inhaling deeply resulted in a queasy swell of pure nausea that Mycroft knew could only be blamed on a hangover. However did normal people consider this an acceptable condition to find oneself in....it was egregious.  
There was a bird singing directly outside the window whose audio pitch could rival a car alarm.....and for a moment he was horrifically reminded of the nightmare summer he had spent with Sherlock aged 4 that had involved a great deal of Mary Poppins and various freeform dances to music! Dear God his own reluctant participation in that nonsensical horror was certainly best forgotten!  
He addressed the bird directly as the throbbing pain spread from temple to eye socket.... "Could you possibly.....cease and desist, you inane little pest ..... before I call in an MI5 sniper to have you picked off where you perch!"  
He couldn't locate Gregory's exact location within the home yet.... opening his eyes still felt unwisely premature. He could dimly hear a radio talkshow in the background and smell faint traces of toast however even when combined and analysed, despite the hammering head ache, that data was far too vague to discern the Omega's current activities.

____

His mouth felt revolting as he ran his tongue over his teeth slowly.... it seemed he had insufficent saliva to effect any discernible improvement.  
His tongue appeared to be furred... Most off putting.  
Hopefully Gregory kept a spare toothbrush.  
And paracetamol.... or something stronger.  
He'd slept in his clothes.... the tailored waistband of his suit pants felt unpleasantly constricting as did the collar of his shirt...... although Gregory had removed his shoes , jacket and tie and his waistcoat was open.  
He could feel the unkempt appearance of a slight dusting of morning stubble on his chin....  
Heaven knows what he looked like.....uncombed and dishevelled.  
This in no way approached any of the hauntingly vague dreams he'd had.... It wasn't as he'd imagined sleeping the night in Gregory's bed would feel the morning after.  
He had to admit he'd no idea how their conversation had resolved itself. His memory of the conversation as a whole appeared regretably sparse with whole parts of his evening lost to a state of mental confusion  
He had even less idea how he'd come to be here on Gregory's bed.  
And his bladder was full.  
Urgently full.....

There was an overflowing laundry basket full of jumbled un-ironed shirts on the landing and a large standing fan with his suit jacket draped over it, that briefly gave him a start as he mistook it for a crouching man....  
Quite clearly his mental acuity had been adversely affected by whatever alcohol he'd consumned.  
Mycroft stumbled his way into the bathroom and unzipped for some desperate relief.  
As the stream of his own urine hit the porcelain he steadied himself by leaning his throbbing forehead against the cold glossy doors of the sliding doored cabinet above the toilet and fought down the urge to retch.  
The flush of bright blue water told him that Gregory had placed a dye block in the cistern to colour the water. However pointless doing that was when compared to using a proper bottle of bleach; it was still another fact that could be placed together to know more about the man and as such it was important.  
Under the hand basin was a bucket and a bottle of eco floor cleaner.... Now he thought about it, he'd noticed there was a faint smell of lemon as soon as he'd entered the compact bathroom....  
The haggard face that met his judgemental stare in the bathroom mirror, as he removed his platinum cufflinks, rolled up his shirt sleeves and soaped his hands, looked worse than he'd expected.

Thankfully Gregory had left a newly packaged tooth brush and a disposable razor on top of a folded face towel, next to the wash basin and Mycroft was touched by the simple kindness of the gesture....  
Teeth brushed he felt somewhat more human ....  
Shaving with the disposable razor and pre- foamed shaving spray in an aerosol can was an experience he never cared to repeat...compared to the slow ritual pleasure of a traditional shave with a brush and cut throat blade.  
Despite that as he rinsed the last traces of sudsy cheap foam from his face and looked up again into the mirror he expected to see some discernible improvement in his corpse like complexion.  
It was impossible to fool himself....  
Grey.... He looked grey.  
His hair was unruly.... strand after small strand out of place, instead of smoothly combed neatness.  
The condition of his shirt was lamentable.... if he had taken one of Gregory's un-ironed shirts from the admitedly, untidy pile outside in the basket on the landing and worn it without having it starched and pressed; it could only have improved his current stale and crumpled appearance.

He did the best he could under such straightened circumstances.  
Halfway through his scant ablutions as he bent he found a little sour stomach acid filling his mouth and hastily spat it into the sink ... recollection came flooding back at the vile taste.....  
He glanced guiltily at the now sparkling floor and winced at the faint trace of lemon floor cleaner that he now knew meant Grgeory had cleaned up after his own disastrous failiure to entirely control and contain a sudden bout of vomiting during the night.  
He had a muddled memory of appologising as Gregory had gone down on his hands and knees to clean the floor and a slightly more vivid memory of the way Gregory's tanned skin had shown at the junction of pajama waistband and t'shirt as he'd moved.  
He suspected he may have passed comment on the attractiveness of that temptingly visible slither of Gregory's masculine body.... although he hoped not, a embarassing recollection was attempting to surface.....  
The realisation that he most certainly _had _commented was humiliating.__

He ought never to drink again.  
He made a mental note to arrange a full eco friendly house clean and permanent ironing service for Gregory by way of a more decent appology..... if Gregory would only accept it....

Greg was taking a break after ironing five shirts which still wasn't enough for the week. He hated ironing almost as much as he hated defrosting the freezer and making the bed.... . He was having a cuppa and enjoying a couple of custard cream bsicuits.... when he heard Mycroft's unsteady footsteps head into the bathroom.  
Considering a self proclaimed Alpha rapist was wandering about upstairs he felt surprisingly calm.  
There _had _to be a mistake.__  
There just had to be..... or human nature and the universe was even more twisted than he sometimes suspected in his bleaker hours.  
Greg filled the kettle and got out two more mugs then unplugged the iron and put it on top of the cooker before finally putting a whole custard cream in his mouth and chewing slowly.....

____

"Gregory......" Mycroft's low mannerly voice came from behind him.  
Greg clicked the kettle to boil and turned around without rushing....  
The man who appeared at the open doorway of his kitchen in suit trousers . socked feet and yesterdays shirt was a revelation. Greg had expected to see him reclad in his armour... waistcoat, tie and suit jacket back in place.... shoes back on his feet. That Mycroft hadn't done that was unexpectedly touching and Greg took a moment to look and really see.  
Unpressed and tieless in his pale blue shirt, Mycroft looked younger and surprisingly unsure of himself..... as though all his sharper edges softened with the removal of his suit.  
He looked like Sherlock..... same self doubt , same careful eyes.... same politely uncertain wariness .  
"You look like you've an almighty hangover," Greg said. "Sit down, I'll get you a couple of paracetamol and a cup of tea."  
He heard the chair legs scrape behind him as Mycroft obeyed his instructions without a word.

Two freshly made mugs of tea steamed on the table between them. Mycroft had barely touched his.... sipping at it once or twice.... despite his extremely dry mouth even the small amount of milk the drink contained was turning his stomach.  
"I owe you an appology Gregory.... and I am truly sorry," Mycroft was exhausted and adhering to Sherlock's advice still seemed his best course of action. Begin with saying sorry..... "I rarely drink too much but on this occasion.... it was an emotional day.... I'm not too proud to admit I was over wrought... it affected my good judgement, it appears.... " The indefinable expression on Gregory's face bought his speech to a close prematurely. Something was wrong..... "Gregory....?"

"I'm going to talk for a minute.... right now you just need to answer," Greg said with a professional calm. "You said last night that you're sexually attracted to me and want us to date? Is that still what you want?"  
How and why did Grgeory still doubt that when Mycroft had come here with the specific intention of resolving the issue?  
"Is that a yes or a no?"  
Mycroft blinked at Gregory's bluntness. Apparently it did need clarification..... "A firm yes. I can only apologise if my actions have in any way caused you to doubt my intentions....?"  
"We'll get to that.... your _actions and intentions _," Gregory said and Mycroft felt like the very chair he was sat on had just been slid out onto an ice rink..... he was suddenly very aware that one of Scotland Yard's best detectives sat across the table from him.__

Feeling slightly wrong footed Mycroft was left to repeat himself..... and this time he determined there would be no mistake as to his intentions.... He fell back upon the lines he'd rehearsed countless times sat in the car..... "Gregory Lestrade..... I find you extremely attractive..... compellingly so.... both as a individual man and as an Omega.... I realise I've not always made my position as clear as I should have....." Again the strangely unfamiliar expression on Gregory's face made him stop prematurely.... "Am I to infer....that you no longer wish us to date?" he asked stiffly. The pain of loss was immediate.  
Gregory's rich brown eyes looked searchingly into his own. "Oh I want us to date.... I very much want us to do more than date...." Gregory said and some warming type of emotion surged in Mycroft's chest at the words..... "But first I'd like an explanation following what you said last night....."

Mycroft did his best to guess the causes of the doubt he could hear and see.... though a pounding headache and sporadically overwhelming nausea made deducing anything a challenge...... Shadowed marks of sleeplessness under Gregory's admittedly fine eyes, slight indentation around the mouth showed concern, a somewhat hasty shower and shave that had totally missed a small patch on his neck under his jaw..... Gregory had drunk three cups of tea before this one to judge from the fresh ring marks upon the table top..... and had eaten most of a packet of biscuits.... When considered all together the signs indicated a level of stress not otherwise exhibited in Greg's body language....  
Of course. Mycroft thought.... although clearly he had come some way to explaining his hesitancy ....sexually..... there were issues that remained to be resolved..... "The bullimina? I realise I ought to have been more honest...."  
"I'm sad you didn't feel you could share that with me because you could have done.... I've never been a judgemental person, I like to think I'd try and understand..... but that's not what I mean...." Greg's tone was level and gave little away past a worried sympathy.

Mycroft stared at the Omega's familiar face with its slightly dimpled jawline and deep brown eyes.... if Gregory wasn't repulsed by his bulimina then what remained? One more admission.... Of course..... "My personal difficulties...." Mycroft was disturbed to find himself resorting to Alan Riddickesque vaguaries..... He sighed.... "It's humiliating Gregory.... for any man.... More so for an Alpha of the Elite...... I hoped it would resolve itself in the natural course of things.....since I find you so very attractive.... Retrospectively that was foolish.... I ought to have told you that I am incapable of meeting some of your needs...." Something was amiss here, Gregory's careful expression was completely at variance with the Omega's usual reactions.... even the obvious compliment failed to relax his mouth.  
"It's a bit early to write us off with regards to that yet.... I don't think you were relaxed last time and I'll own it and say that's as much my fault for moving things along a bit too quickly.... we've some issues we need to work on there too when it comes to honest, open communication in bed but there's no reason why we can't do that....." Greg said patiently.

Oh dear God ..... therapy? Gregory was sat waiting for a response but when Mycroft hastily began to promise he'd consider participating in just that, he was startled into silence as Greg shook his head.... No. "That isn't what I'm talking about either.... You remember talking to me about your father last night?"  
Of course.... Gregory was troubled by the realisation. "He was a pitiful excuse of a parent," Mycroft said, the sickening hangover making him bitterly honest. "He barely deserved the title.... Sherlock and I mostly refer to him as Siger...."  
"I'm not going to argue with you.... what you described last night was emotional and physical abuse.... and you should never have had to live through that...." Greg's voice was kind as he saw Mycroft blink to hear it called abuse without prevarication....  
"It was far worse for Sherlock...."  
"No.... don't do that. Don't negate the pain it caused you. I know Sherlock's suffered a life I find hard to think about..... but you didn't fare much better growing up. You need to recognise your own pain and how it's affected you as much as his....You deserved better too."  
Mycroft found his hand sliding forward across the table top towards Gregory..... he was surprised when Gregory's flat hand landed on top of his own and stopped it, keeping it there under the warmth of his own palm..... "Gregory.... ?" he heard uncertainty in his own voice.  
"Do you not remember?" Gregory's exhalation was slow..... "Last night... you called yourself a rapist.... and I need to know why you'd say that?"

____

Mycroft had been trained to withstand the sort of prolonged questioning that usually accompanied torture.... however that was of little use here... if he kept silent or withheld as much infomation as possible he could tell from the positioning of Gregory's shoulders that the Omega had already resolved to end what was between them before it had even properly began.....  
" I want to trust you, Mycroft. I really want to give you the benefit of the doubt.... "Greg's voice showed just how much.... "Right or wrong I need to know what happened. You need to tell me..... because we can be nothing until you do that.... and , so help me God, if you've committed an crime....if you've raped an Omega and somehow got away with it... I'll arrest you myself if he wants to press charges! No matter how I feel about you." Greg said.

" I see"..... Mycroft pressed hard on his forehead with three fingers and a thumb, hoping one pain would dislodge another.... "Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" he asked.  
There was the sound of a running tap and then Gregory placed a cold glass in front of him....  
"Thank you...."Mycroft said and drank it. "I have no idea where to begin...." he said. "Did I....talk about it at all....?"  
" No..... Take your time.... if there's something you think I need to know to understand what happened include it...." Greg knew how to do his job , he questioned the perpetrators of serious crime daily... but this was Mycroft.... the man he already loved.... and it already felt very different.

"It was Christmas.... ordinarily I'd have gone down from Cambridge but Siger had already made it perfectly clear that wasn't to be the case. I spent the day studying and spoke to Sherlock once on the telephone..... I knew he'd be upset but I didn't expect his anger.... he refused to believe that I genuinely wished to be there for him..... The conversation was difficult for both of us.... of course I understood he was more upset than truly angry..... Towards the evening I made the decision that sitting inside my room and wallowing in self pity was what Siger would have wished and therefore I wouldn't give him that satisfaction..... There was a midnight service in the church of Saint Mary The Great. I decided to attend..... I found it unexpectedly moving.... they have an Elite Omega choir .... the voices were all so pure.... It was quite, quite beautiful....." He remembered the jewelled crystalline colours of the high stained glass windows and the heavy scent of the smoking incense.....unaware that Greg's eyes hadn't left his face.  
" By the time midnight service ended snow had begun to fall.... it was silent and timeless..... Sherlock would have known the perfect piece to play to enhance the beauty of architecture and nature.... but as I entered the quad my mood changed.... I saw only the decades of decadence.... the lives blighted by expectation and rigidity..... the corruption of the club.... The porters were still on duty.... I meant only to stop for a moment but it was one of the rare occasions when loneliness and a sense of common humanity made me linger.... They had a casket of port from the Provost, a ham hock pie and some stilton cheese... The conversation was lively if a little robust.... perhaps I stayed as much for the company at Christmas as I did for the food....." he admitted.  
Greg's hand was still on top of his own.... he was thankful for it.  
"By the time I made my excuses and left....I was a little inebriated.... the porter insisted on walking with me to my rooms.....he even called me a 'decent young fellow'...I was amused. Drunk . I swear to you Gregory I noticed nothing before I opened my own bedroom door, Siger must have used something at the bottom of the door to block the scent. The scent was overwhelming once I had.... it hit the back of my throat within seconds.... the first time in my life that both knots filled.... Of course I backed away...."  
"There was an Omega in heat in your room?" Greg knew it had to be that.  
"I didn't see him at first.... Siger's presence was so inexplicable given that he'd said he had no desire to see my face.....and it was impossible to think, too breathe without painful arousal..... Gregory you have to believe that...."  
"Your father was there?"  
"With an Omega..... The youth he'd bought was already partly stripped..... the sheets and mattress of my bed were saturated in slick..... nothing but blank mindless need in his eyes...." Mycroft swallowed hard...."Siger had taken him first.... upon my bed..... and to my eternal shame all I could think about was me next..."  
Greg was wordless.... his throat blocked with painful tension. Had Mycroft done this....?  
"I'd prided myself on being so much more than animalistic Alpha instinct... now I saw I was a fool.... When the challenge finally came I was no better an Alpha than my own revolting father..... a man who'd molest his own Omega son...." Mycroft's elegant hand was a tightly clenched fist upon the table top.  
"You did it? You raped him? The Omega?" Gregory couldn't hide the pain or the disbelief in his voice.  
"No! I should never have told you that I did.... I was drunk.... I had no idea what I was saying .... I wanted too.... that was horrendous enough.... "  
"You _didn't _rape him? " Gregory was on his feet, both palms on the table and Mycroft looked a little taken aback by his vehemence.__  
"I pushed him away.... d...d...d....down to the floor..... He was in heat....trying to kiss me, slick and seed running down his thighs..... He had no idea who I was.... I could see it in his eyes, blind need...." Mycroft stammered. "My knot was gone as soon as I saw him with Siger.... I could no more have penetrated him than a limp lettuce leaf could.....The mind was revoltingly willing...but thankfully the flesh was weak... " He was beyond humiliation now....shamed as an Alpha and as a man....

Gregory came around the table as fast as he could.... startled, Mycroft pushed back his chair and got to his feet..... "Gregory I know what you must think .... I swear I couldn't....You have to believe me.... I swear I didn't.... I've never harmed an Omega in my life....."  
Greg's hands were on Mycroft's shoulders.... holding him still and in place...."You brilliant.... stupid.... bloody incredible man. I've spent all night trying to see how the Alpha I'm in love with could say he's a rapist when every instinct in me was screaming that's not the man I know! " He pulled Mycroft towards him and saw the conflicted overwhelming emotion on Mycroft's face...... "You berk!" he said, fingers of one hand in the short damp lengths of Mycroft's hair, lips moving against his ear...."Don't you ever do that to me again, Mycroft Holmes.... I love you. You hear me? "  
"I hear you." Against his chest Mycroft could feel each short sharp inhalation of total relief as Gregory took them and he took his own deep inhalations and let Gregory's wonderful warming scent flood through his lonely body...."I love you, Gregory"..... slid a hand to the nape of the Omega's neck unthinking and let his fingers trace up the back of Gregory's neck into the short silver layers of his hair as he tilted the Omega's head back slowly and sealed his mouth to Gregory's in a passionate kiss .....


	68. Maybe It's The Crazy I Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aric Weber arrives home for the bank holiday weekend ......unaware that Mary is already there.....  
> Alan and Sherlock realise having a baby is an expensive business....
> 
> Mycroft is the bearer of bad news.....and is forced to agree to let Sherlock put himself in danger alongside Riddick.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baffled ..... Yorkshire speak for not being able to make sense of something.
> 
>  
> 
> Blue track is Turn Explicit by The Wombats.

Sherlock quietly snuck a hand out from the shared warmth of the bed and took his mobile phone into the bed and under the duvet with him.... angling it so the light of the screen didn't fall on Alan's face and wake him......  
Already awake Alan lay still behind him, his head sharing the same pillow and blinked silently as the bright illumination of the rectangular screen lit up Sherlock's own face.... That bloody phone again! Honest to God he wished the damn things had never been invented!  
Sherlock adjusted the brightness and scrolled down.....so he could check and see if Mycroft had texted back.  
No messages..... Boring!...... _although _..... perhaps that meant Mycroft was still there.... at Greg's ....having spent the night.__  
Now that would be good!  
Unlikely though..... even though he'd never seen anyone as perfect for Mycroft as Greg was.  
He put the phone back quietly and shifted his body closer to Alan's.... eyes open and fixed on the silent phone, worrying about his brother and Greg, in the dark....  
What if things hadn't gone well? What if Mycroft couldn't let himself show the inner person that Sherlock knew was in there?

____

Alan huffed into his own joined hands to heat them before edging carefully forward, fitting into the the scented heat of Sherlock's body, spooning the Omega closer with a hand on his hip. "Nice this.... bank holiday weekend.... No court.... Don't have to rush to get out of bed.... Just you and me.... "  
"I could get used to it...." Sherlock said and Riddick could hear the soft smile in his voice.  
"Oh? You could? Could you?" Alan teased...."Could you get used to this... and this....?" and he lowered his head to plant kiss after kiss across the nape of Sherlock's neck...huffing heated air over the skin.  
Sherlock hunched his skinny shoulders up against the tickling beardy kiss as he laughed and let Alan slide both arms round him and lock him in.... 

 

Aric Weber walked through into Arrivals amid everyone else, he had with him a large wheeled suitcase and a smaller one full of legal papers. Heat or no heat ... he'd have to get some work done..... Aprielle's infertility meant his heats were short but intense, usually over in as little as a day. While it meant leaving him in a heat was possible Aric still felt residual guilt each time it was necessary, knowing that for a day Aprielle would be suffering. This time , at least, he would be home to help.  
Aprielle was easy to spot, stood at the very back of the crowd of strangers with his headphones on, when he spotted Aric his smile lit up and Aric's own bearded face split into a wide smile at the sight of his mates shocking pink hair. Aprielle was like a bird of paradise.... every few months emerging from the bathroom with his dark hair dyed a new bright colour.

"You like? If you say no I'm not changing it ...." Aprielle teased as he got behind the wheel..... he knew Aric loved to see him change his look.  
"I like. What colour is this new one?" Aric could feel the constant physical stress caused by separation from his Omega begin to ebb away ..... like a calming scented candle, Aprielle's jasmine scent filled the car.  
"Punk Magenta.... I did it this morning. I thought maybe that will be late and I miss you....I had to call a repair man this morning..... All I could hear was BEEP....BEEP all morning ..... Driving me crazy...." Aprielle managed to gesticulate a mad spiral in front of one ear and still drive.  
"The house alarm? There was a problem?" Aric was quick to check.  
"The car..... Oh my Buddha! All morning Aric from 4 a.m..... it was making the noise.....going into my head like a drill.....BEEP BEEP BEEP! I try to turn it off but ...nothing." Aprielle exagerated shamelessly.  
Aric settled his head back against the head rest and listened to Aprielle vent with an expression of pure contentment on his phlegmatic face.  
It was good to be home. 

Sherlock checked his phone again as he went downstairs to collect the newspaper from the armchair in the hallway.... as always, it was open at the crossword page.....  
Martha had already done all the pointless questions he'd would never be able to answer about popular culture or movies and left him all the more sensible ones about actual things.  
Once they'd finished it she always posted it into a weekly competion to try and win a prize of ten pounds, which apparently they were going to share if they ever won. They hadn't won yet but Mycroft could probably arrange it if it ever became an issue. 

Breakfast smelled really good.... Sherlock sniffed over the pan as the turkey bacon cooked.  
"Mind yourself.... that hot fat can spit up at you..." Alan fussed.  
Sherlock was used to the fussing and ignored it without comment...."Weird ....it smells like coconut...." Maybe pregnancy was messing with his sense of smell?  
"Aye its cooked in coconut oil..... its a healthier fat when its heated...."  
Alan was very into healthy eating....Sherlock listened to the detailed explanation of why it was better for him with half an ear..... already distracted by attempting his crossword puzzle. What on earth was 12 down? Some kind of martial art or weapon?  
Alan's studied cough pulled his focus back....  
There was a plate in front of him with breakfast on it ..... "Sorry.... " Sherlock placed the newspaper down on top of the table to make it clear he wasn't looking at it. To be extra sure the Alpha had noticed the gesture he slid it away from him.  
Alan covered his grilled mushrooms in ketchup, his once weekly indulgence and took a long look at Sherlock's paper, saying nothing even when he noticed the small wary signs of Sherlock's past physical abuse surface as they did sometimes.... "12 down is Tonfa. It's a martial arts weapon."  
Sherlock flashed him one of his beautiful smiles and filled the clue in....

Watching Sherlock work was never a hardship. It was a bit like watching one of those mad boffins and even with safety googles on he looked bloody adorable.... Alan reckoned the experiment was going well , nothing had fizzed up yet or suddenly gave off plumes of smoke. This last lot wasn't even changing colour....  
Much as Alan loved looking at the lad's quiet calm as he dropped whatever that was into something else and swirled it around in a glass tube; it was a Bank Holiday and he didn't plan on letting a whole day go to waste indoors.  
Surely to God they'd spent enough time cooped up at Apple Dore?  
There had to be some place Sherlock wanted to go. Riddick made up his mind to ask him after lunch , that way he'd have had some time to do his experiments and odds would be better on him agreeing to go out.  
As if he'd spoken his thought aloud, Sherlock glanced up... "What?" he asked. "You're waiting to ask me something....?"  
No point in denying it. "I was thinking...." Alan said. "We could go out someplace? If you fancy doing anything?"  
Sherlock took his safety googles off and tossed them down onto the table.... "I do want to do _something _..."  
The something turned out to be very different than anything Alan had thought of.... __

____

Mothercare....  
Alan had watched the lad try folding and unfolding twelve pushchairs.... and Sherlock still didn't look bored.  
"I'm only looking today." Sherlock stressed again and Riddick hid his smile. Every pushchair she showed them Sherlock repeated that phrase as though he was worried she'd wrestle Alan's credit card out of his wallet.  
"Now this one's quite light for a travel system....." The Beta shop assistant was saying.  
Sherlock lifted it up and put it down fast , looking like it weighed more than he thought..... "Alan.... what do you think? I think its heavy."  
Alan lifted it up in one hand. It felt light to him but then everything did. " It's heavier than that other one. Handles a bit short for me too, if that's as high as it goes?"  
Sherlock blinked.... he hadn't considered that Alan would be pushing it but now he'd said it he realised that of course he'd want too. "I think that other one is my favourite.... so far. Can I look at it again? " Sherlock asked. He had a long list of questions but it was getting hard to remember all the answers..... "I've forgotten is it a one handed fold?"  
"It is yes.... and one of the lightest." The store assistant said.  
"And does that price include the carrycot and a raincover?" Sherlock still sounded confused.  
"It comes with the Aluminuim chassis and carrycot frames, base carry cot fabric and base seat fabric, raincover and underseat bag but you would need to add a buggy muff for the colder weather. If you're going to use a car seat with it then you'll need the car seat adaptor pack at £39.95 and if you'd like a changing bag to match we have those too....." She repeated patiently. "It's on special offer while stocks last."  
Alan casually flipped over the price tag to see how much all this was going to cost him and almost had a heart attack as he spotted the price..... £1,079.99!  
Ruddy Hell! Special price his arse! They hadn't even bought anything else yet!..... Flaming Heck!

"I've forgotten a buggy muff! I knew there was something else!" Sherlock sounded flustered. "We definately need one but I don't know about the changing bag...... we are only looking today. What do you think Alan? It comes in a lot of colours but I was thinking black and grey?"  
"Black'd be right.... now't too bright." Alan couldn't see himself pushing a neon pushchair down the road. He was still in shock at the price! How the Hell was a pram worth well over a grand?  
"I was thinking...." Sherlock said shyly, keeping his voice down.... "If we had any more babies .... at any stage, obviously not right away.... then black and grey is ok whatever we have... boy or girl."  
Alan's guilt at still not telling the lad he had a low sperm count made his belly muscles clench..... "Let's concentrate on the one we're having right now, shall we lad?"  
"Ok..." Sherlock smiled before turning to the shop assistant. "I am _only looking _but can we look at somewhere for the baby to sleep next?"__

____

Mycroft may have had a wonderful morning kissing Gregory but he wasn't about to let sentiment get the better of him .... now was not the time to dwell on the perfect masculine feel of Greg's hot clothed body against his own....  
This meeting with a recently disgraced Palace official involved the subtly applied inference of blackmail to ensure the man did the decent thing and resigned.... Mycroft was more aware of how powerful the Alpha sexual urge could be than he used to be but then whatever did the man expect would happen if he were caught frequenting an illegal Eastern European brothel in the manner he had?  
A public scandal would have been inevitable were it not for Mycroft's personal intervention. "Her Majesty the Queen will require your immediate resignation from all your official roles and duties... however this need not be done personally...... I am authorised to accept on Her Majesty's behalf.... Your grace and favour appartment will also need to be vacated..... I've arranged for removal of your personal effects to take place today...."  
"How dare you!" The other Elite Alpha blustered.  
"How dare I?" Mycroft gave a sharp smile and let his contempt show.... he'd been called away from Gregory for this! "Your sordid little escapade threatens to drag the Royal household down with you into the mire of your own making..... Abusing those who are vulnerable due to their illegal status to say nothing of the upset you've caused your bond mate ....." He ceased talking abruptly as one of his aides approached the table and lowered his head to whisper in Mycroft's ear.....  
"Sir.... There is a situation .... Code V....."  
V for violin stood for anything Sherlock related..... Mycroft stood up at once.

"Alan Riddick's sister, Leanne, was found deceased at 10 a.m this morning Sir..... The body had lain undisturbed for several days before discovery." The agent filled Mycroft in on the scant facts as they knew them.  
"The addict? Cause of death?" Mycroft was quick to ask.  
"Yes, Sir. Cause of death is as yet unknown but over dose would seem likely. Drug paraphenalia was discovered at the scene."  
"Where is my brother currently?" Mycroft knew well that wherever Sherlock was Riddick would never be far away. Even so the answer was unexpected.  
"Mothercare , Sir."  
"Sherlock's in Mothercare.....?" Mycroft was genuinely surprised then appalled in very short order. "What on earth is he doing?"  
"Looking at baby equipment, Sir on the second floor...." The aide had a live feed on screen as he spoke.  
Mycroft glanced at it in horror. " Have any in store security footage seized and any and all mobile phones currently within the store wiped with the exception of my brother and Alan Riddick's. I want the names and personal information of all staff... they'll have to be spoken too... Nobody is to leave that store with a photograph or footage of my brother that even shows him in the vicinity of a pram! "

Sherlock sighed.... "So the baby can sleep in any of these cot beds for five _years _but it's best if he sleeps in something small he'll outgrow in five months?" That sounded a little insane.__  
"Babies prefer to feel secure after the womb..... a smaller bed like one of these bedside cribs can be useful for night feeds, they are level with your own mattress...." the shop assistant explained.  
Alan deliberately didn't turn over the price tag, afraid that if he did he'd want to steer the lad towards something cheaper. At this rate his savings wouldn't last long! "My aunt had one of those little baskets...." he said. Despite himself he checked the price £187.00..... Those basket things his Aunt had were a third of the price of this fancy bedside thing too! Almost £200 for summat Neep would use for a couple of months.......  
"I don't think I want the baby sleeping on a level with the bed.... it'll be looking right at us when we're having sex. That would be weird wouldn't it?" Sherlock admitted in an urgent whisper, keeping his voice so low only Alan heard him.  
Alan chuckled.... "From what my married mates told me we won't have the bloody energy left to do 'owt in bed but sleep for the best part of six months any road. Sex'll be right off the menu......" Sherlock looked horrified by that fact which made Alan want to laugh and hug the Omega.... "I still like that little basket thing same as my Aunt had....you can take that around from room to room easy, lad or move it outside the room if we need too...."

____

Alan was baffled. They'd come all the way here and spent the best part of two hours looking around and the lad was refusing to buy as much as a packet of cotton wool balls.  
"We could get some of it today.... maybe not the pushchair but you could get those baby clothes you liked?" He knew Sherlock wanted to buy those for Neep.... the second Sherlock had seen the little blue sleeper set with its white star pattern and matching hat and bib he'd touched it and ran the fabric between his finger tips and Riddick hadn't missed the way he'd looked back at it twice either.  
"No.... We need to wait." Sherlock was adamant.  
"I don't mind paying for it," Alan said. Maybe the lad thought he hadn't the money.  
"It's too soon. We have to wait. We can't risk it." Sherlock said and crash, just like that, Alan realised what the problem was.... Tempting fate his mother would have called it..... Sherlock was still scared he'd have no baby to hold....  
All of a sudden Alan desperately wanted Sherlock to buy something..... if only to prove he still believed it could work out and they'd be together and have a baby at the end of all this....  
Whether they bought baby clothes or not.... if they lost Neep at this stage it'd wreck them both. He may not be born yet but already he was loved.  
He made sure he kept as much of that thought process from his voice and face as he could ..... "Aye mebbe you're right. Best wait a while yet." 

Sherlock wasn't blind.... he knew Alan desparately wanted him to buy something. He didn't even fully understand his own superstitious refusal but he understood Alan's need to plan ahead optimistically and hope that they could influence fate in their favour. He wanted that too.... "There was a set.... blue with stars on.... " he began hesitantly.  
"I'll get it," Alan was already heading straight for the right set without needing to ask more.  
"Tiny baby size!" Sherlock called after him and just as he said it he saw two of Mycroft's suited agents get out of the lift and split up to head straight towards him and Alan.

Sherlock felt out of place stood at the till behind another mother to be, a Beta whose rounded fecundity made him feel too small and awkwardly shaped..... with one of Mycroft's duplicate agents stood close by him.  
"When are you due?" The shop assistant was asking the woman as she scanned her purchases.  
"A month.... my back is killing me now...." the mum to be complained.  
Mine too.... Sherlock thought.  
As the Beta picked up her bags and turned around she stopped to stare..... "Oh my God.... it's _you _isn't it? From the news. From the Court...."__  
Sherlock found his mouth had opened.... which was strange since he had lost all his words......  
The Beta was staring at the baby outfit in his hands...looking right at his belly as if she was checking for a bump..... Sherlock moved the baby clothes on their tiny hanger over in front of Neep.... it wasn't much to obscure her view but then it wasn't much of a bump compared to her own which was frankly huge.  
.  
Sherlock stared back in an inner panic at her beautiful dark liquid eyes and arched eyebrows that looked as though she'd shaded them in with a pen....."Friend of mine just had a baby.... A boy....." he lied.  
Why wasn't Mycroft's agent doing something?  
Where was Alan and why hadn't he spotted her and stepped in? Sherlock glanced over despite himself and saw Alan had walked abruptly away from his conversation with the second agent and was heading this way fast.....  
She hesitated..... "Good luck with getting your son back. I hope you win."  
Say something..... Say something idiot.... she's being really nice! ..... "Thank you... Good luck with your baby."

____

"Get the bag and lets go," Alan said tersely.  
Sherlock watched the Beta's eye's flick nervously Alan's way...... he didn't blame her. Alan's face was hard set and if you didn't know him you'd have thought he was angry.  
Sherlock knew it wasn't that.  
"We need to go. Now." Alan was close to the words being an order. . "There's a car out the back."  
Old habits die hard.... Sherlock felt Alan's hand fall to the small of his back to steer him away....

There were two cars out back and Mycroft was stood beside one.....  
"I'll need to go back to 221b to pack a bag and I'll need a train timetable." Alan said directly to Mycroft.  
"I have a helicopter on standby for you." Mycroft replied.  
Sherlock didn't understand. His mind felt astonishingly slow at the thought of Alan going away. Why would Alan need to pack a bag when he couldn't go anywhere Sherlock wasn't ?  
"It's all being arranged." Mycroft paused.... "My sympathy on your loss...."  
Alan nodded wordlessly. 

"Where is he going?" Sherlock demanded answers as soon as Alan slammed the car door behind him and went around the car to get into his own seat.  
"Yorkshire.... " was all the explanation Mycroft had time for before Alan wrenched the car door open and slammed it hard behind him as he got into the front seat.  
Hundreds of miles away!  
"Who died?" Sherlock mouthed mutely at his brother behind Alan's back.  
"Sister," Mycroft mouthed silently back.

At 221b everything was moving too fast and Sherlock felt as though he had vertigo, stood right on the edge of a huge drop, as he watched Alan change his clothes and start to pack with a brisk military efficiency.  
In the sitting room Mycroft was finalising travel arrangements.  
Sherlock watched speechlesly as Alan rolled up a pair of dark jeans and stuffed them into his backpack.... If he kept packing at this speed he'd be gone in minutes. The idea left Sherlock with an aching agonising void in his chest. "Alan.....?" Tell me what happened. Talk to me.  
Alan was looking for a dark shirt and socks..... "She was a lovely lass, our Leanne.... before the drugs...."  
Sherlock hated hearing raw grief in Riddick's voice.....

Alan had found some socks and was zipping up his wash bag.....  
"I'll call you when I get there.... Maybe you'd sleep better if you stay over at your brother's....I've left my t-shirt on the bed for you, to wear if you need it." Alan's hands fell on Sherlock's thin shoulders to steady the Omega as he left a kiss on the lad's pale forehead.  
It was typical Alan .... worrying more about Sherlock than he ever did about himself.....  
Riddick had closed the bag up now and was pulling his phone charger out of the wall........  
As Riddick turned round Sherlock saw his familiar, loved face altered by grief and before Alan could pick the backpack up and leave, Sherlock snatched it up and hooked both arms through it, hugging the backpack to him..... "I'm coming with you!" he said.

"Absolutely not!" Mycroft rejected the idea outright.  
"Absolutely yes!" Sherlock said and stood his ground, "One way or another... " It was a threat and they both knew it.  
"I'm concerned for your security, Sherlock....." Mycroft tried even though he knew it was futile.  
Sherlock fought back the urge to panic...they had no time to argue over this. "I'm going . End of discussion. You _have _to let me do this." he said again. Pale faced and dauntingly single minded. "Alan needs me."__

____

Mycroft stayed back in the door way, well away from the buffeting down draught of the helicopters rotary blades as it lifted up off the roof top helipad against the backdrop of the cities skyline. He shielded the phone held to his ear as best he could as he spoke "John....?"  
" I'll need anything you've got on the situation.... houses, family members, Church, cemetery, the morgue..... everywhere they'll go, Mycroft.... " John had to shout over the noise of the second helicopter that Mycroft had arranged for him....  
"Don't let them out of your sight John. "  
"Yeah, course not....You don't need to worry.... I'll keep them covered." John promised, feeling the familiar weight and solidity of his SIG dig into his back as he sat into the helicopter seat ...."We're taking off now....Talk later."  
Mycroft was bewildered to find the sight of the black helicopter carrying his brother and Alan Riddick vanishing Northward, along with the suddenly disconnected call, left him feeling surprisingly bereft.. The number he dialled now was already comfortingly familiar...."Gregory...." he said.... 


	69. We Won't Blow Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan finds himself back in a town he left behind a long time ago....  
> Sherlock realises he is seeing signs of suspicious death on the body of Riddick's sister, Leanne....  
> Alan and Sherlock come close to arguing....before they make it up!
> 
> Mycroft and Greg grow closer before Sherlock shatters the mood.....  
> Mycroft realises his brother is up to something....
> 
> Sherlock lies to Alan.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owt....anything.  
> Now't.... nothing.
> 
> Luncheon meat....also called spam....it's ham in a tin.  
> Iceland....a UK supermarket that sells a lot of frozen ready meals.
> 
> Blue the track is Keep Your Head by David O'Dowda.

The Yorkshire of Alan Riddick's childhood and teenage years had now't soft or pretty about it.... it was hard edged and unemployed, rain filled and narrow minded, full of people who weren't afraid to say 'owt to your face if they reckoned you had it coming and had some fixed ideas as to how you should live your life.....  
He'd scraped the past off his boots the day he'd left and had'nt been back here in a long time..... until he'd walked out on Sherlock, after the Omega had swallowed pills to bring on a miscarriage that had almost cost him his own life.  
He'd never thought to bring Sherlock to this shitehole with him.... Aye, he'd planned to show the lad the wild endless beauty of the Dales but there wasn't much scenic you could point out about a chip shop or a closed down pub with galvanised metal shutters up over its windows; in a town with few jobs....  
Sherlock wasn't sure what he could say..... he just couldn't imagine the man he knew loved the peace and remoteness of the cabin he'd built for himself, growing up here.... in these damp streets full of wind blown litter, lined with small terraces of unvarying, gardenless houses with one window upstairs and another one downstairs.  
"It'll not be what you expected," Alan's voice broke silence unexpectedly. He sounded ashamed.  
"It's fine. I'm here for you.... nothing else matters.... just you." Sherlock said.

There were no hotels.... just a run down looking pub with a sign saying ROOMS TO LET. There was a group of Alpha and Beta men clogging up its steps to smoke and drink from huge plastic bottles of cheap cider.  
Riddick drove right past it to Sherlock's deep relief.  
"We're staying with my Aunt.... that place isn't fit to lie down in unless you want to get up with bed bugs."  
Grief had made Alan taciturn. He had talked so little on the way here that everytime he spoke now Sherlock felt mildly surprised. "The Aunt with the baby?"  
"Aye that's the one, but the baby's a teenage lad in borstal now.... he nicked cars and went joyriding up the motorway." Alan answered. 

This street was brighter..... the houses were still tiny and squashed together. They looked so narrow it was hard to imagine how the rooms inside them fitted but there were signs that this was a happier place to grow up. On the deep window sill next to the white pvc front door somebody had planted a window box full of spring flowers.  
"She's painted the front brick," Alan remarked as he pulled up to the kerb in front of the house.  
Sherlock turned his head to look at the bright shade of painted red. He wasn't 100% certain it was an improvement.  
Alan gave a sigh.... "Right, lets get inside in the warm and have a cuppa , lad." 

It felt strange to get out of a car and not be screamed at by ranks of paparazzi yelling your name and shouting questions as though they knew you. It shouldn't feel strange , Sherlock knew that.... but somewhere along the line press intrusion had become a part of his everyday life.  
Alan didn't bother with knocking.... he pushed down the door handle and went right on in, making sure Sherlock stayed with him by means of strong fingers laced in with Sherlock's own.  
The hallway was narrow, every wall lined with family photos.... Alan's body blocked most of it as he had both Sherlock's and his own backpack slung over one broad shoulder.... He gave a low whistle. Sherlock could hear but not see whoever was greeting Alan.... and then they were in the narrow, confined space of a kitchen, with wet washing hanging over head on an old fashioned wooden airer and it was his turn to be visible and he felt unprepared....  
He'd been expecting a granny type person.....  
"Sherlock? Come on in lad, don't be shy. Let us have a look at you.... I've the kettle on and some sandwiches made....tinned luncheon meat Alan, your favourite."  
Sherlock couldn't have explained how this larger, buzz cut and bleach dyed lady with her jade green vest , huge boobs and plastic hooped earrings reminded him of Martha because really they were nothing alike.... but she did. It was a relief.

Luncheon meat was very pink and truly vile and strangely Alan seemed no keener on it than Sherlock was....  
There was a shop bought swiss roll though.... the sponge tasted of nothing at all but the white creamy part was Heavenly.... Sherlock ate two slices....  
"You'll have to let me know what you like eating... I can run over Iceland if you'd like owt fancy?," Alan's aunt said.  
Iceland? As in the country?..... Sherlock had no idea what she meant.  
"He's not fussy," Alan spoke for Sherlock.  
"It's minced beef and onion pie with some gravy tonight.... You'll eat that? I can make you summat else if you don't eat minced beef?"  
Sherlock swallowed his mouthful of cake and opened his mouth to say, yes he'd eat pie but Alan spoke ahead of him. "He's Elite not Royalty."  
Sherlock closed his mouth. Was that why she was asking him? Did she think he was that different, just because he was Elite, that he wouldn't eat pie?  
"You may be rough around the edges Alan Riddick but nobody can say I don't know how to take proper care of a guest!" There was a steely edge to her now.... indomitable and fiesty.  
Sherlock had never seen someone tell Alan off before.... he found his mouth opening to interrupt without conscious thought..... "I'll eat some pie," he said.  
Alan's level blue stare fell on Sherlock thoughfully.... "You heard the lad, now quit your fussing woman," he passed judgement.  
"Just you watch your manners.... You're not too old for a clip round the ear yet, my lad," she answered back fiercely.  
It took Sherlock a second to realise the lad she meant was Alan, not him! He wasn't 100% sure if Alan and his aunt would call what just happened an argument or not? Either way it was interesting...... he took another slice of cake and chewed both things over.

Alan had taken their bags upstairs to the room they'd be sleeping in tonight.... when he came down they were going to the morgue.  
Sherlock had never been to a morgue before.... but he definately wanted to go almost as much as he knew Alan didn't.  
He waited for Alan to come back downstairs in the sitting room, except here it was called the 'front room'. The carpet in the tiny square room was quite possibly the most luridly swirled thing Sherlock had ever seen..... an odd strip of floral wallpaper ran around the green painted walls halfway up and was repeated again at the very top of the wall next to the ceiling. Absolutely nothing in the room matched. It all seemed to have been chosen by people who had wildly different tastes.  
Above the electric fireplace, on a wall that seemed to be covered in some kind of plastic wood panelling, hung four mismatched bamboo frames. One held a photo of a teenager with long hair sat on a stone wall with his arms round someone with spiked hair and huge solid looking boots on.... Sherlock had to look at it twice before he realised that was Alan.... which meant the Omega he had his arms round had to be Billy.  
He'd _never _seen a photo of Billy.__  
Despite telling himself he shouldn't he stepped closer .....  
"I've some old albums upstairs...." Alan's aunt's voice came from behind him. "If you're interested?"  
"He's not...." Riddick's voice came from halfway down the stairs, he was there in the room in a few short seconds. "Come on lets get going. We've no time to be fecking about here."

____

On the way to the morgue Alan suddenly pulled the car over and got out.... Sherlock watched as he jogged around the car and stood on the path to talk with a craggy faced, wide set man who had a nose and ears that had seen better days.... "That's a brother, isn't it?" he asked the aunt.  
"Aye that's Paul...."  
Sherlock could see the family resemblance in the build but Alan was taller.... he was still staring and trying to see what else gave away the family tie between them, when Alan's brother turned his head and looked right at him before looking away without any kind of acknowledgement.....

The body..... _Leanne, Alan's sister _... Sherlock corrected himself was still at the morgue but her body was being sent over to the undertakers tomorrow once it was released.__  
Because she hadn't been found for days they had to view her from behind glass.....  
Alan's aunt started crying before they'd even seen her.  
The mortuary assistant showed all three of them into a tiny room with a window. blocked with a red velvet curtain behind its glass, set into one wall.... almost immediately the curtain was pulled back and there, close enough to touch if the glass wasn't in place, was a mottled bluish corpse with another mortuary assistant wearing a mask over her nose and mouth stood behind the slab the body lay on.  
"Jesus.... Christ!" Alan cursed and took a step back away from the glass...."God Almighty!"  
His aunt wailed......  
Sherlock stared at the sagging loose textured face ..... at the slack droopy jawline and at the dark crescent shaped finger nail impressions in the bluish skin under the jawbone.... Had she clawed at her face in death? But why would she scratch at herself there right under the bone.... when lower down her throat would make more sense?  
To the right of him Alan was still swearing bitterly...... his aunt had collapsed into one of the five chairs and was crying into what remained of a tattered , wet tissue.  
Riddick had turned his back on the viewing window.... he stood facing the wall , palms on it and Sherlock could hear and see the huge, sickened heaving breaths he was taking.....  
Squeamish.

____

Sherlock stepped forward without looking away from the body and knocked on the glass..... when the startled mortuary assistant looked up Sherlock gestured at the body and then pointed at his own hand frantically. "Show me her hand," Sherlock mouthed to the glass as though he could be heard. "Hand .... show me the hand!"  
The mortuary assisstant.... a middle aged palid man with little hair on the top of his head anf thick framed black glasses.... stared stupidly back before suddenly he got it! Without touching the corpse he rolled back the edge of the white sheet she lay under......  
Sherlock took a step closer to the glass.... his nose touching it..... The nail beds were a bloodless cyanosed purple ..... there was a deep scratch on the backs of her hand with its bluish dead veins ......  
Her finger nails were bitten to the quick.  
"What the _Hell _are you doing?" Alan said from behind him and Sherlock shot around , startled and guilty.....__

____

In the car on the way back Alan said nothing.  
They stopped outside a butchers shop on the way and Alan's aunt got out of the car and stood in line inside.  
An old man in a cap and brown anorak came outside with his bag of sausages and Sherlock realised he could pinpoint the exact moment he saw Alan, from the hard, unfriendly look he gave the car and its occupants.  
Alan didn't react. Sat motionless in the drivers seat where Sherlock couldn't see his face. Then he spoke..... "Why'd you bang on the glass? Back at the morgue?"  
Shit...! Sherlock avoided answering....."Did...." _think , you idiot what was her name _?..... "Did Leanne have long fingernails.... recently....?" He asked without thinking of the consequences....__  
"Did she what...?" Alan had turned around in his car seat and was staring at him. Warning him off....  
Sherlock fought back the sudden strong urge to say 'nothing'.... "She ..... there were scratches..... up under her jaw....."  
"And?" The question hung in the air between them.  
Sherlock took a deep nervous breath..... "She was an addict.... she wouldn't have bothered with manicures...." He wanted to add that he'd seen nail marks under her jaw that looked perfectly shaped..... but the shocked angry look on Alan's face made him fall silent.....  
"She was my sodding sister not just 'an addict'!" Alan's whole jaw was tense which Sherlock knew meant it'd be best to shut up now...... "Jesus Christ, Sherlock.... will you give over?"  
A moment passed between them and Sherlock's nervous swallow was so loud he was sure Alan must have heard it.  
Alan gave him a long hard look.... unrelenting then turned back around in his seat.  
"I'm sorry," Sherlock said from the back seat.  
"It's not your fault," Alan replied shortly and put the radio on. They listened to some kind of football scores list in silence even though Riddick hated football and always said he was a rugby man.

____

The pie was nice but nobody ate much.... there was a lot of onion in it and it was unremitingly brown. 

Afterwards they sat in the small sitting room with its glowing electric fire and pretended to watch tv..... There was a programe on in which people who sold antiques, bought antiques and then sold them again at an auction.....often without making very much money. It all seemed a bit pointless but Sherlock wisely didn't point that out.  
Halfway through the part of the tv show where they revealed who had lost the least money and therefore had won , Alan's aunt started crying again. "She'd not been seen out in a few days.... " she wiped the tears away with a saturated , tattered tissue.... "I keep thinking I could have done more..... should have done more...."  
Alan said bluntly...." What? What more could you have done? She'd gone her own way , there was no reaching her... She'd have robbed you blind too buy drugs and you know it."  
Sherlock didn't know Alan's aunt at all but he wasn't entirely sure the tough love approach was working as the tears kept coming...... "Give her a hug!" he mouthed and for all of a second Alan looked taken aback as though the idea had literally never occured to him.....  
The hug Riddick gave her was one armed and more awkward than any Sherlock had ever seen him give but at least it seemed to help......

The bedroom had an unused feel to it. The curtains didn't quite stretch across the window and the dark wood veneer on the side of the wardrobe was peeling away from the MDF frame leaving two wide yellow strips of glue exposed..... Alan's aunt fixed it back up with a push and a smoothing motion.  
"This is the only other room with a double bed," she said and Sherlock could hear how the state of the room embarassed her.  
"It's fine. We'll manage," Alan said.  
There was an electric blanket on the bed but Alan wouldn't let Sherlock turn it on in case it "fries both of us." He was probably right.  
The sheets were made of pastel pink brushed cotton.  
The curtain didn't keep out enough of the street light.  
Alan drew Sherlock into his arms.... "Sorry about today. I've been in a shite of a mood.. This fucking place.... I'm no good here."  
Sherlock pushed in closer and tightened his own arms round Alan's solid body. "I'm sorry..... At the morgue.... I didn't think..."  
Alan's sigh was dredged up from the depths of his lungs..... "Tell me why the scratches matter," he said reluctantly.  
"I don't know that they do.... " Sherlock admitted.  
"But you think they look wrong?" Alan knew how observant Sherlock was.....  
"They can't have come from Leanne.... her fingernails were bitten all the way down.... The paramedics may have left them, " Sherlock bit his tongue, he'd been about to say on the body but there was no way he was making that mistake again. "If they tried to resusitate her at the scene."  
Alan gave a slow thoughtful nod and let his hand follow the line of the lad's side, comforting himself as much as the Omega. "Aye. That'd make sense wouldn't it, if they tried to save her?"  
Sherlock could tell.... he could hear it in Riddick's voice, the Alpha wanted to believe it was no more than that.... "Yes," he agreed just because Alan needed to think it was nothing more than a tragic accident....  
Sherlock knew what he believed.... he suspected it was murder and if there was some way he could prove it then he should....

Sherlock woke up starving.... his stomach growling so loudly that he could hear it.  
Alan was asleep.  
The landing was dark and Sherlock could hear Riddick's aunt snoring as he snuck into the bathroom for a pee. Before going back into the bedroom Sherlock held the landing curtain back just enough to see outside.... the street was empty except for one man whose dog ran about madly before lifting its leg against the wheel of a white van. It looked ridiculously optimistic.... that was the good thing about dogs, they were always happy.  
Sherlock watched the dog until it was out of sight.  
Back in the bedroom Alan had rolled over, the tanned strength of his torso caught Sherlock's eye.... long before Alan had told him how he felt, long before they'd kissed .... long before they were anything more.... Sherlock had had dreams about sleeping on top of Alan's chest with the Alpha's arms round him.  
Yesterday felt like a failure.... he wanted to find a way to help but it was more difficult than he'd thought, especially now Alan had gone all strong, silent and Alpha.  
He snuck back into bed and lay awake. He had a lot to think about....

"Alan .... wake up.... I made you tea...."  
Alan took a moment longer than usual to surface... when he did he said gruffly.... "Just give us a minute" and brushed past Sherlock on his way out the room.  
Sherlock fixed the pillows and listened to Alan peeing in the bathroom next door.... It was strange when you lived with someone how even the sound of them peeing became familiar.  
When Alan came back his breath smelt of mint toothpaste.... he sat on the bed next to Sherlock, facing him and took a gulp of tea. "Thanks.... How'd you sleep?"  
"Good," Sherlock lied without compunction, Alan didn't need to be worried about him right now. " I wanted to cook you breakfast but I did'nt know if that was ok?"  
"Best not... Yorkshire women can be funny about their kitchens... Tea's nice though," Alan said, he laid a palm on Sherlock's thigh and stroked the lean muscle slowly, his eyes staying on Sherlock's face.....  
"You don't like luncheon meat anymore do you?" Sherlock knew, he'd watched Riddick's eyes narrow in dislike as he'd eaten it.  
"Can't stand the stuff," Alan admitted.

"I never asked you if it would help having me here.... I just assumed...." Sherlock said quietly.  
"Aye.... well, you've a right to do that," Alan kept his own voice low to ensure they had privacy.  
"If it'd be easier with me gone...." Sherlock made himself say it.... "I'll go stay with Mycroft, if that's what you need.....?"  
Alan shifted to put the mug down.... the hand that cupped Sherlock's cheek was heated from holding onto the hot drink and Sherlock pressed his face into it.... "Now't in my life'll ever be better with you gone, lad. I want you here... course I do."  
Sherlock thrust his own mug carelessly at the bedside cupboard , not caring that it slopped over and came into Riddick's arms.... pregnant belly pressed tight against Alan's hard body, arms linked round Alan's neck.....  
"Don't ever leave me," Alan said fiercely in between kisses and Sherlock felt the warmth of Alan's wide palms on the bare skin of his back sliding down into his pajama bottoms...

"Do you think.... she heard us....?" Sherlock was panting, mind blown.... cock laying limply against his groin, skin still damp from Alan's mouth.  
Alan looked up from in between Sherlock's thighs and licked his lips in one short slide of his tongue, tasting the secrets of Sherlock's body on them , before he answered.... "Ruddy well hope not!"  
Sherlock watched a million dust specks dance and swirl in the air above them.... "The walls are very thin," he said doubtfully. The idea that she might of done was unsettling.....  
"It's now't to be ashamed of..." Alan started to say when there was a sudden weird gloopy sound like something big was peeling away.... and the veneered side of the wardrobe slowly came loose from the top and fell down to hang in space, curling like damp cardboard.....  
Sherlock blinked....  
"Well.... I'll be buggered!" Riddick said incredulously. 

 

Greg's hair was mussed and he was trying hard not too show how aroused he was in danger of becoming as Mycroft's hard finger tips slid against his scalp in a caress that straddled that fine line between too much and not enough..... "You got the hang of this fast"  
"It's simply the application of firm pressure and the addition of sufficent skin heated lubrication....." Mycroft said smugly as his thumbs slid into the little notched space right at the base of Gregory's skull and circled slowly....  
How did Mycroft not realise how sexual that sounded? God... Greg cursed inwardly.... his mind was right down there in the gutter....  
Sat facing the back of a kitchen chair with Mycroft stood close behind him... the Alpha's surprisingly strong thumbs teasing out all the knots and stress from his neck and shoulders felt bloody amazing and sensual as Hell....  
"Tilt your head back....." Mycroft practically purred the words.... as his fingers pushed up the sides of Gregorys neck and his hands cradled the back of Gregory's head, thumbs circling the knots of tension away...... "You should really see a chiropractor.... I can recomend an excellent woman... I believe she qualified in Hungary originally....she worked for the Olympic curling Team.... a sport in which there is a great deal of physical strain upon the shoulders....."  
Greg had a fierce urge to lean his head back against Mycroft's body and inhale the Alpha's scent .....  
"There.... "Greg said gutturally.... as Mycroft found the perfect spot...... Oh Sweet Jesus that felt unreal!....  
"Gregory..... " Mycroft's voice caressed every sound in Greg's name......  
The abrupt sound of Mycroft's phone shattered the moment.... vibrating and trilling its way across the table top with Sherlock's name emblazoned on it's screen....  
Greg groaned and lowered his head down onto his crossed arms! Talk about bad timing, Sherlock!

"How can I be of assistance brother mine?" Mycroft aimed to sound as coolly focused as possible.  
There was a pause.... "Sorry to interupt your snog fest," Sherlock said with no small degree of certainty.  
Mycroft remained calm....."I can assure you nothing of the sort was happening." He heard Riddick say something in the background.... "How is Alan?"  
" Gone for a shower.... " Sherlock had dropped his voice , not wanting Alan to hear what he said next from next door in the bathroom. " Not good. I'd like to help him.... if he could talk to the ambulance crew... he'd like to thank them." It was a total lie but how else was he to find out their names and see if one was a woman with long nails that would explain what he'd seen on the body.... "Please....?"  
Mycroft's eyes stayed with Greg as the Omega got up and began to fill the kettle.... the skin at the front of Gregory's chest was flushed in a most attractive way.... "Of course," he said. "Is that all?"  
"That's all.... for now.... you can get back to your romantic morning a' deux..... with _Greg _....." Sherlock said salaciously.__  
"Really Sherlock you do have the most fanciful ideas concerning how I spend my time," Mycroft said, watching Gregory move about the kitchen in his navy polo shirt and jeans.....  
"You know I'm right...." Sherlock sounded breathless suddenly, his teasing stopped abruptly....  
"Sherlock? Are you alright?" Mycroft said sharply.  
"Yes.... Just a cramp.... in my calf...."  
Mycroft felt that familiar worry gnaw at him.... "Don't over exert yourself.... remember you are with child..."  
"I thought you said being pregnant wasn't an excuse but a perfectly natural condition...?" Sherlock still sounded flustered as he took hold of his toes and pulled them up with one hand to ease the cramp....  
"As indeed it is not.... however you are my brother.... " Mycroft watched as Gregory sliced some cinnamon and raison bagels to toast.... "I care....." he said.  
"I know that," Sherlock said. There was a pause then he spoke again.... "Cuddling is good.... You should probably start with that..."  
Good grief..... "I'm hanging up now, Sherlock" Mycroft said firmly.  
"Really... just because I said 'cuddling'?" Sherlock said..... "It's just.... I care too, you know? You don't have a monopoly on it."  
Mycroft opened his mouth after an initial second of stunned surprise to attempt a reply but by then Sherlock was gone.

____

"That was Sherlock.... " Mycroft wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain something so obvious, yet somehow he did. He was aware of a residual guilt at having switched focus so swiftly.  
"How are they?" Greg asked.  
"He sounded reasonably well...." Mycroft wished he'd been able to place camera surveillance within the home but it had proved impossible given the time frame.  
"But you still worry...." It was a stated fact, not a question.  
"Indeed...." Mycroft admitted..... "Sherlock asked me to let him know the names of the paramedics who were first at the scene...."  
Greg looked up and held Mycroft's gaze.... "Did he say why?"  
"Quite willingly.... I didn't even have to ask him.... apparently Alan wishes to thank them personally...." Mycroft hoped Gregory would see what he saw behind that whole story.... Sherlock volunteering any information was immediately suspect.  
"Except this is Sherlock.... " Greg said thoughtfully. "He's up to something?"  
"Precisely!" Mycroft said. "I'll let John know....."

Sherlock felt a twinge of guilt about lying to his brother but refused to let it trouble his conscience. A murder could have been committed here and that had to be more important.  
Mycroft's people had found the names of the two paramedics in minutes and that made it easy to find both on Facebook....  
Both were male.  
Just to be sure neither was a closet drag queen, played guitar or had some reason to have abnormally long nails Sherlock went through their photos until he'd checked the length. Both had closely clipped nails.  
That meant the suspicious marks on the body remained a mystery.  
For a moment his heart sank.... lying to Mycroft hadn't solved anything.... .....  
Worse.... there were more unanswered questions now not less and that meant lying again.... this time too Alan.  
He _really _wasn't looking forward to that.  
But he had to see the crime scene.__

____

 

Breakfast was best described as different.... Alan would never have bought all these different sugary cereals. Sherlock mixed two brands together and enjoyed the sugar rush.  
"So what's planned for today?" Alan had avoided all the breakfast cereals and was eatting some plain toast with peanut butter on it.  
"We need to speak to the vicar.... choose a service... Find an undertaker.... I don't right know what else needs doing.... "  
Sherlock made sure he didn't look up from his cereal bowl....if he looked at Alan he wouldn't be able to do this.... "Some people... make a funeral more personal.... You can play music.... even change the deceased person into their own clothes.... Alan and me could go over and get some of her things.....clothes, cd's.... from where she lived....if you have a spare key?"  
Of course she had a spare key...... he'd deduced that from the way she kept stroking one of the bunch of door keys pensively whenever she held them in her hand....

"That was thoughtful.... thinking of Leanne like that .... It'll help" Alan said as they waited in the sitting room for Alan's aunt to 'have a quick pee before we go'.....  
Sherlock's was trying to do up his trainer lace.... reaching was getting harder. If he didn't have such long legs he'd have done it by now but Neep was being obstructive..... Sherlock was almost sure he laid lengthways on purpose sometimes.....  
Alan gave the door a quick glance to be sure it wouldn't be seen.... knelt down, took Sherlock's foot up onto one thigh and did the lace up for him..... "There you go .... " he was surprised to see that Sherlock looked tearfully emotional at the gesture...."You alright lad?"  
"I just love you.... that's all," Sherlock said. I'd do anything for you, he added inside his head.  
Alan grinned.... "Since when was that summat to cry over, soft lad?"


	70. All The Ashes Of Our Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to support Alan though everything.
> 
> Visiting the room where Leanne died Sherlock pieces together the clues left behind but almost misses one major one ....  
> When things turn violent....John proves he has Sherlock and Alan's back. Gratitude is in short supply.....
> 
> Sherlock reveals he is prepared to manipulate and lie to get the evidence he needs ....and John deals with it all calmly as he steps into his future role.....  
> Sherlock struggles to deal with the gritty reality of coming close to a dead body but refuses to give up until finally they have the evidence they need. Although he can't prove it he suspects Charles was involved.
> 
> Aric Weber's weekend home ends in tragedy....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Ether And Wood by Alela Diane.
> 
> Desomorphine is a drug being increasingly used instead of heroin in Russia ( no prizes for guessing Count Alexei is involved here) its street name is Krokodil because it rots huge areas of tissue when injected. Tbh its gross and I do not recommend Googling...its the stuff of nightmares. You have been warned!

Having never been inside an undertakers before Sherlock had vaguely imaginative expectations of the sombre and macabre.... It was nothing like that but it was still _interesting _.__  
It felt more like taking a seat inside a Dicken's novel.  
Everything looked to be trying to convince the eye that it was original and Victorian.... from the flock wallpaper and framed art, to the brass and etched glass light fittings...... even the plug sockets had been given the brass faux Victoriana treatment.

__

____

Alan, three of Alan's aunts ( Sherlock wasn't sure if he'd forgotten their names or if Riddick had forgotten to tell him what they were, either way he could hardly ask now) and Sherlock, himself, were all sat at a glassily polished mahogony table with a plastic and fabric floral arrangement on it.  
Apparently the family business had been opened in 1867 and The Bereavement Suite they were currently all sat in, 'aimed to provide a traditional , family centered enviroment to sooth and support you through this difficult time.' At least that is what the brochure said..... To be fair the Riddick family did appear to require a lot of soothing support but even the funeral director wasn't foolish enough to _actually _attempt it.__

____

Sherlock had only met the other two aunts an hour ago and already he was begining to see any number of possible reasons why Alan had said "Bloody heck, that's all we need.... hinge and ruddy bracket!" under his breath when he'd seen them stood outside the undertakers in the rain.  
The argument over choosing the coffin had been going on since they left the room where you viewed the selection of available coffins and Sherlock was alternately appalled and entertained by the heated dispute in equal measure.  
Alan's low sigh spoke volumes. Sherlock knew he was feeling cooped up and pressured and any second now he'd snap..... "She'd not have wanted a fancy dark wood coffin, I'm telling you...."  
"There you are.... Alan agrees wi' me.... she'd have liked the wicker casket...." said the aunt Sherlock and Riddick were staying with.  
"Over my dead body is that lass being buried in summat that looks like a glorified dog basket, Alan!" Alan's other aunt ( Sherlock thought she was the one whose baby screamed so loudly she'd left it and the pram in her shed) was fighting her corner in the coffin dispute.... seemingly unaware of the black humour in what she'd just said.  
"Well that's agreed.... she can't go meet her maker in the wicker!" the third aunt chipped in doughtily. "At least _some _of us have an idea of what's right and proper......"__  
"You're not the one being bloody buried in it tha' knows....more's the sodding pity" Alan landed a low blow on behalf of his favourite aunt.... and unexpectedly the snobby aunt, disintegrated into floods of tears.....  
"Shall we take a break and look at our options for handles ?" The funeral director asked tactfully.

____

In the florist the scent of flowers was overwhelming....  
Sherlock tried not to breathe in, knowing if he did, Charles and the violence of the past would be waiting there for him..... He cupped a hand over his nose and mouth.  
Alan gave him a shrewd look.... "You don't look so good. What's up with you?"  
The Omega florist and Alan's aunt both stopped talking about making LEANNE in flowers that were the same colours as those of the local football team strip and looked over. "You alright, love? You look a bit green?"  
"I need to wait outside!" Sherlock said very fast then clamped hs mouth shut in case he vomited.

Outside there was a damp, chilly wind that lifted the short choppy layers of Riddick's hair. Sherlock stood on the pavement in front of the store and fought to pull himself back from the memories that were darkened around the edges with fear as people passed him by.  
"Is it the baby?" There was stark concern in Alan's face and voice. They were so far from home and Lars, if it was....  
"It's the flowers...." Sherlock managed. He'd taken several deep breaths in but it still felt like his lungs were tainted with the redolent scent of petals , stems and Charles....  
Alan cast his eyes along the street , judging how many passers by were looking their way, before touching Sherlock's cold face. "You need to eat something, that'll be all. It's been a while since breakfast....." He stroked Sherlock's soft skin with his thumb. rubbing slow over the boy's prominent cheekbone....  
A car horn blared loudly behind them and kept honking..... Sherlock jerked his head away, startled.....  
"Oi!.... Oi....! Don't do it in the street and scare the horses, you dirty perv!" A brawny man was yelling from the rolled down window of a filthy white van.  
"I hate this sodding place!" Riddick said matter of factly. "Come and say hello to my older brother, lad."

 

They sat on a bench inside a bandstand across the road in the local park and had chips for lunch..... hot, salty and deliciously greasy.  
Alan's brother had the same far-seeing blue eyes that crinkled at the edges when he laughed as Riddick but where Alan was tall and ruggedly handsome, his brother was broad shouldered and bandy legged, with ears that had been battered in a rugby scrum and a thick neck that was entirely covered in black and grey tattoo's that looked like they continued down under the baggy grey jacket he was wearing. .  
Sherlock was surprised to find the brother, Joe, felt weirdly familiar and unintimidating.... once you'd learnt how to read Alan it seemed you had learnt to read his brother also.

"You weren't wrong.... he's got the looks, alright...." Alan's brother openly gave Sherlock a once over before he gave Sherlock a friendly smile to excuse his staring..... "Sorry lad, we don't get that many super model types round here...."  
Sherlock knew he'd gone pink with awkward embarassment.  
"Behave..... you're making him blush..." Alan threw the chips he didn't eat out out across the unkempt grass for the crows to fight over, wings flapping as they hopped and cawed. "Besides I told you years ago he was a proper little beauty."  
"Aye, you might have talked about him the odd hundred times. So Sherlock.... you're the reason Alan never took time off from that job of his for weddings or Christmas? We never saw hide nor hair of him from one end of year t'other tha knows...." Joe kept his face straight as he teased Sherlock.

Sherlock wasn't sure what to say in reponse to that even when he knew it was a joke.... Alan had just always been there and he'd never thought that perhaps sometimes he could have been anywhere else. Had that been selfish of him?  
"Pay no heed to him, Sherlock. He means now't by it," Alan remarked lazily, he sounded relaxed about everything.  
"Aye... I can see what the attraction in the job was now, right enough. Not so sure what Sherlock sees in you, mind... " Joe was laughing as he spoke to Riddick before turning back to Sherlock..... "If you ever feel like an upgrade to a better quality of Riddick, lad..... I'll see what I can do for you.... I'm promising now't, mind.... as the better looking brother, I'm much in demand.... "  
Sherlock's mouth twitched..... was it rude to laugh at the absurdity of that offer/assertion? Apparently not as Alan was chuckling away.....  
"He made the same offer to Billy.... got knocked back then too, as I recall." Alan winked at Sherlock.

"There's a new girlfriend he hasn't told you about yet." Sherlock said to Alan with a shy smile.  
" That so?" Riddick grinned.... "Truth's coming out now. Who is she, lad?"  
"She's Asian, and works as a beautician, " Sherlock said.  
"How in heck did you know all that?" Alan's brother was gawping at him in open astonishment.  
"Well, I didn't guess. I deduced it.... There's two hairs on your jacket, blue- black in colour so judging from the mix of shops I've seen Asian was more probable.... It was obviously a girlfriend who ironed those creases in your jeans for you." Sherlock stretched. "The beautican part was super easy....you've had your teeth whitened twice recently and someone waxed your unibrow and nose hairs...."  
Alan gave a violent snort and burst out laughing at the poleaxed expression on his brother's face .... "Jesus Christ, lad!.... Bloody Hell!"  
"Flaming heck! That was fecking crazy! You could make a fortune doing that, it's as good as a magic trick!" Joe sounded as astonished as he looked. "You have to come over and meet Meera, she'd bloody love you!"  
Sherlock found himself smiling. It was fun to use his deductions to tease back without needing to worry about getting in trouble because he'd dared to say what he could see.  
It was nice to just be normal.

 

John couldn't believe Alan Riddick had bought Sherlock here but he had..... and now Sherlock was stood outside the shared house that Riddick's sister had died in, waiting in the untidy little front garden with its overflowing, lidless wheelie bin full of rubbish.  
Damp had swollen the old wood of the porch door and the uneven original tiles inside caught at the bottom with a loud scraping sound as Riddick forced it back over them.  
John saw the glow from an overhead ceiling light illuminate the brown carpeted stairs ahead before Alan pushed the door shut and they disappeared from view.

There was a musty smell of damp dirty carpet and dust that made Sherlock want to rub at his eyes and sneeze.  
Alan led the way up the stairs amid a running commentary of cautions.... "Mind your step here. Carpets loose." He had'nt wanted to bring Sherlock along but there'd been no choice.... it wasn't safe to leave the lad behind when he'd be elsewhere, unable to keep an eye on the Omega.  
Leanne had decorated the white painted, panelled door to her room with a huge Mexican day of the dead skull , drawn in thick black and neon pink marker pen it covered most of the door.  
Alan stared at it..... she'd always been good at drawing but to see something she'd drawn here , in this rundown shared house of rooms, made him tighten his jaw.  
"Careful where you step in the room , lad." Having been here on his last visit home Alan knew they'd be needles and pieces of used foil everywhere. "Make sure you don't touch anything..... could be dirty needles laying about uncapped. Don't even sit down.... You could get jabbed. You just stay right still in the middle of the floor."  
Sherlock nodded. " I will," he lied.

There were no used needles. There were no burnt pieces of foil.  
There wasn't even a ashtray yet most junkies smoked.  
For Sherlock it was another sign that he was right..... "Alan can we open a window?"  
"Yeah course." Riddick moved to the window and opened it.  
Behind his back Sherlock hurriedly lifted the sharps bin.... it was completely empty except for what sounded like one solitary used syringe.

It wasn't a big space to have called home.  
A single bed. No mattress on it. Somebody must have removed it. Shame it might have held some clues.  
A single wardrobe.  
A small chest of drawers.  
A grubby mirror.  
Nothing much to see.

Sherlock took the time to really look.....

Mindfulness books. Typical of somebody trying to fix their life.  
A calendar of pug dogs. Every Tuesday and Friday filled in with an NA......Narcotics Anonymous meetings, had to be. How on earth had nobody else noticed that?  
A mostly eaten box of supermarket apple pies. Five was an odd number to have eaten all by yourself wasn't it?  
A dirty glass.... another one by the sink. Could have had company. That would explain the apple pies as well.  
A large brown paper shopping bag crammed full of other paper rubbish.  
Free newpaper open on the table. Job adverts circled in biro..... Interesting.  
Vitamin pills from a health food shop. Concerned about her health but avoiding traditional medication?  
This didn't feel like the room of an addict. This felt like the room of somebody fragile trying hard to begin again.

 

Riddick was standing still, he looked uncertain.  
"Alan.... are you ok?" Sherlock ignored the 'stand still in the middle of the room' rule and came over to touch Riddick's arm.  
Alan looked at him, needing help. It didn't feel right to just start going through her things.... "Where would she keep her make up bag, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock looked around the room.... the front of the chest of drawers had greasy fingerprints on one of the small top drawers that looked like they were caused by someone who'd just used an oily make up remover and hadn't stopped to dry their fingers. "Top left hand drawer," he said..  
Of course he was right.

Alan was reluctantly looking through the open wardrobe.... trying to find something for Leanne to wear in her coffin.  
Sherlock seized the chance and took a look under the bed where Leanne had died....  
Nothing. Not even any old dust.  
The room was _too _clean.__

"Sherlock? Do you think this is good enough for Leanne? She's not worn it."  
Sherlock looked at the pair of black trousers and royal blue blouse, Alan was holding out on their hangers.  
The label was still on both items and suddenly Sherlock just knew it was an interview outfit.... bought in the hopes that one of those jobs she had circled in the paper would give her a chance. This wasn't the room of someone who still took drugs.... it was the home of someone who was trying to change. Until now it had all been a puzzle to be solved and seeing the room had just been a way to collect clues but now Sherlock saw the room was a snapshot frozen in time of an individual life teetering precariously on the edge of something better. "Yes... she bought it because it was smart. She must have bought shoes that go with it somewhere.... There's a shoebox over there...."  
"She'll never wear 'em now," Riddick's voice was gruff as he lifted the lid to see the new black shoes.... He stayed looking down at them for a long time as his shoulders started to heave.  
Sherlock reached out for the shoe box, took it gently away and put his arms round Alan....

John was relieved to see them leaving after an hour and heading home along the darkened street.  
He was forced to stay further back than he wanted to be just to be sure Riddick didn't spot him tailing them but the man didn't give more than one cursory glance back along the dark road and John evaded that easily enough by staying in the shadows.  
It was uncharacteristically careless.... but given the circumstances John wasn't surprised.  
They took their time walking home.... Dawdling along the empty high street. Stopping for a long time to look in the windows of a shop that John was surprised to see was a baby clothing and nursery shop when he reached it....  
When they reached the corner shop, with its metal grill over the windows, they went inside.....

"Twist of lemon khali, thanks." Alan said, his attention on the one other man in the shop more than it was on the shop keeper.  
"Alan?.... Alan Riddick?..... " The bearded Asian man behind the counter said...  
Alan stared at him before realising who he was abruptly..... "Mo?..... Jesus Holy Christ .... it's been ruddy years man! How's life treating you?"  
An old school friend?.... No, a neighbour. There was always something Sherlock got annoyingly wrong..... and all of a sudden , just like that, he realised what else he'd got wrong! Back in Leanne's room.... in a room with no used syringes or evidence of drugs..... why would there be _one _lone used syringe in an otherwise empty sharps bin?__  
What better way to kill an ex-addict than with a forced overdose.... Nobody was even questioning that the syringe found on the mattress next to her had been the one that contained the drugs that killed her!  
He had to get back to that room and get that sharps bin and the needle in it!  
"You alright there, lad?" Alan's voice bought him back into the conversation......  
"Yes.... sorry."  
"Mo, this is Sherlock. He's with me." Alan hesitated since it wasn't strictly true and legal , before adding.... "Sherlock's my Omega..... Sherlock, this is a friend of mine, Mohammed, we grew up on same street."  
Nobody noticed the hard, disgusted look the other man in the small shop gave them.....

____

Alan and Sherlock left the shop an hour later as it closed....Mo shook Sherlock's hand warmly and exchanged a blokes hug with Riddick.  
Sherlock was eating some of the sherbert as they walked away , dipping a licked finger in and putting it in his mouth repeatedly as they walked.  
There was a street light flickering and humming half way down the shadowy high street. " Give me a taste then," Riddick lifted Sherlock's sherbert covered finger up to his own mouth and sucked it.....  
"You queer fucking bastard!" The insult came from the dark cover of a bookies shop doorway.  
It was the man from the corner shop.

"Do yourself a favour. Shut your mouth, mind your own and walk on...." Alan altered his stance to block and silently Sherlock moved across behind him to a safer place to stand....  
John sped up.... gaining ground fast and making sure nobody heard him coming.  
"You always were a dirty, Omega fucking piece of shit.... You and that Billy Samuels.... at it like dogs in his mother's house you were, while she was out working and her none the wiser till she caught you with your cock in her son's arse! What's this thing you've bought home with you now.... another filthy fucking Omega whore...."  
"You bloody bastard!" There was a sickening cry as Alan lashed out fast with the straightened fingers of one hand and jabbed the man right in the eye with his left hand before slamming his right arm down on his opponent's back as he crouched over in agony and repeatedly kicking him backwards , blow after blow landing on shin , thigh muscle and groin.....making sure he didn't get to stand back up and defend himself .....  
Over in seconds. Faster than John could reach them even sprinting full out .... Riddick was explosive, efficient and instinctively brutal.  
Sherlock's distinctive voice said "Alan.... that's enough!" then suddenly he looked around... a startled shock clear on his face..... and John followed his sight line , saw another man still stood in the dark shadows, and weighed on in, fists flying, dragging the second man out into the street and down to the ground where he was cowering when the first of two police cars shot around the corner, blue lights flashing.

"I bloody knew him when he was a kid!" Alan was properly angry at that fact. Venting loudly as they left the police station..... "I knew his sister; we went to school together.... and he fucking tries to jump me in the street!.... Bloody little shit!"  
"Mycroft dealt with it. They won't press any charges." Sherlock said.  
"And what the fuck is he doing here an' all, like a third prick at the bloody wedding same as always?" Alan said shortly, thumb jabbing John's way.  
"Minding your bloody back as it 'appens," John said in a bad tempered parody of Riddick's own accent.  
"That right, is it?" Alan said sourly.  
"You sure as Hell hadn't seen the second man!" John retorted fiercely.  
"Will you _both _shut up for once!" Sherlock said firmly.__

 _ _"John , I need you to go back to Leanne's room, it's the one with a skull on the door and get me the sharps bin that's there." Sherlock hesitated, "Alan.... I'm sorry but everything about it felt wrong, none of it fits ..... a drug overdose doesn't go with the calendar and definitely not the mindfulness books....."__  
"What the ruddy heck are you on about, Sherlock?" Alan said bad temperedly. He knew he sounded rattled but it had been a long day.  
Sherlock didn't react...."You have to let me take a second look at Leanne's body before it's enbalmed. John you're a doctor, you should see it too.... I think.... I could use a second medically qualified opinion..... I need to call Mycroft .... he can get us access...." Sherlock drew breath aware that both John and Riddick were staring at him like idiots....Did he really need to explain this? Clearly he did.... "If I'm right, Leanne was given an overdose against her will!"

"Over my dead body are you going in with her !" Alan swore and for a second he sounded just like his aunt.... "You're pregnant, for Christ's sake! God knows what germs you can catch off a dead body!"  
"I'm having a baby....I'm not made of glass!.... I can wear gloves... even a mask and googles if that'll make you happy?.... Don't you want to know what happened to her? If it was really an accident? The local police have already had their chance and found nothing.... Lestrade would never make the basic errors they've made..... Tomorrow will be too late, once she's enbalmed and buried we'll never know.... _you'll _never know, Alan!.... Leanne had a life and someone ended it and I can prove it if you let me try! ..... John please, you know I can deduce this!"__  
"Don't you dare take those keys off him, John!" Riddick warned John against agreeing, in a low dangerous tone.  
So John held out his palm, his hand steady in the dark of the carpark..... to Hell with being told what to do by Alan Riddick....."Sherlock's right, he can do this... Give me the keys , I'll get the sharps bin and meet you at the morgue."

____

____

 

It was getting cold.... there was a constant shiver vibrating through Sherlock's thin body that made Alan want to pull him close and wrap both arms round him. "You sure about this, lad? Breaking in is a criminal act, even if it's a morgue and you stole now't.... You get caught they're be no end of bother unless Mycroft gets you off it...."  
"I'm sure.... There's no way Mycroft will agree to let me near a morgue especially not one with a body.... all we have to do is make John think he already agreed..... Even if we get caught there's no way Mycroft won't help.... "  
"I'm not so sure. When he finds out you set him up and lied, he'll be pissed...." Alan warned of the possible consequences.  
"Which one? Mycroft or John?"  
"Both I daresay...." Alan was bluntly honest. He heard a click and Sherlock's quietly triumphant 'Yes...oh I'm getting good at this!' before Sherlock stood up with a smile and slipped his lock picking set away into a pocket.....  
"It's open..... I knew John'd agree to help if he thought you didn't want him too.... This stupid jealous argument between you is way too predictable..... Now all you have to do is make John think you're speaking to Mycroft on the phone when he arrives ....just mention Mycroft's name like he's on the other end of the call." Sherlock frowned. "I hate lying to John but what other choice do we have?"  
"Well there's always the truth.... plain and simple...." Alan suggested the sane course.  
"Boring.... C'mon Alan! I need John's opinion.... he's a doctor, he'll see things I might not...."  
"Aye I know.... I said yes to it when you came up with the bloody plan, didn't I?" Alan grumbled, "like I always do...."  
Sherlock's smile was soft. He knew that. 

John parked the car outside on the street so he didn't draw attention their way by parking it outside a closed morgue at 1 in the morning.  
Alan was already on the phone to Mycroft as he walked up.  
"Aye.... I'll keep a look out outside, Mycroft.... John's going in with Sherlock...." Alan knew Sherlock would have seen through the lie of the feigned phone call in seconds but John simply accepted it and followed Sherlock into the empty morgue.... Alan took the phone away from his ear and stood in the shadows, keeping watch in the dark.

"You didn't need too have Alan to lie to me, you know," John said patiently as he pulled out the sliding drawer with Leanne's corpse on it, in its grey body bag.  
Sherlock stared....shit how did John know? "I wasn't sure you'd agree.... The old John definitely would have done but ..... since I came back with Alan things have been tense.... I wasn't 100% sure anymore...."  
"I'm always going to be the old John where you're concerned Sherlock...." John said truthfully. "Next time just ask me if you need my help...." ( even if it's just to babysit the baby for you while you go on a date with Alan sodding Riddick) I'm always going to be there."

 

The smell was a lot worse than Sherlock had thought it'd be..... sickly sweet and rotten.... he retched helplessly before clamping his mouth stubbornly shut. He refused to let himself be sick.  
John seemed a lot less affected.... bending low to inspect the finger nail marks under her jaw..... "These.... done at time of death I'd say.... they haven't bled much because the heart wasn't really pumping.... blood flow would have been sluggish with an overdose.... "  
"That bruising on both sides of her ribs looks like someone sat on top of her and gripped with both knees..." Sherlock swallowed back a mouthful of revoltingly fizzy vomit.... he was begining to regret eating that sherbert khali. "On her hand there... See the long scratch? The tissue is really decayed around that....What do you think , John?"  
"Done with a needle, I think....."  
" There's another scratch between her fingers...."  
"At a guess I'd say that was defensive too... Whoever it was stuck her three times with the needle and didn't even aim at a vein...." Sherlock lowered his head to take a look and John stood up abruptly... all too aware of the Omega's closeness.  
Sherlock held up a gloved hand with all fingers spread out...." She was holding her hand up like that?"  
"Yeah... I think so," John agreed."It's a classic untrained blocking action."  
"And the chemical smell.... it's iodine.... can you smell it underneath the rot?" Sherlock was excited.  
"Typical of krokodil.... but she can't have been using it or she'd have injection sites that were rotting away and she hasn't" John said.  
"So how do we prove she was injected with it?" Sherlock said.  
"I need to do my own post mortem exam and then you need to analyse whatever's left in that needle." John said. "How's your computer hacking skills nowadays?"  
"Thought you'd never ask..." Sherlock said with a happy smile.

 

Alan didn't comment on how green faced Sherlock looked when he and John finally came outside into the fresh air again. "Well?" he asked.  
Sherlock gestured to show that he needed a minute, he was still trying to rid his lungs of the smell of Leanne's body.... "The drug inside the needle I found in the sharps bin was desomorphine . Not something you'd buy on the streets unless you had a death wish. It rots flesh , causes huge abscesses...." "There's no signs she was a regular user or even a sporadic one. Plenty that suggest she was attacked." John took over seamlessly. "She was stabbed more than once with the needle while she was fighting back.... whoever overpowered her, straddled her body and gave her an overdose so massive her body simply went into a deep sleep....she forgot to breathe."  
"The lad's right? This was done on purpose?" Alan couldn't believe it... a part of him had always thought this'd turn out to be now't but Sherlock's need for excitement..... "Who the Hell would do that to her?"  
"Charles would...." Sherlock said faintly. "Maybe not himself but he's got the hate and the money to pay somebody to do it for him.... and if it hurt you then he had motive."  
"We need to call Mycroft," John said. "If Charles is going after the team or our families he needs to know."

 

Aric Weber steadied Aprielle with both hands on his mates hips and gasped loudly as he fought to slow his heart rate down.....  
Aprielle's ribs were heaving as he pushed back against the swelling knot inside him, enjoying the fullness rubbing against his perineum. He gave a gasp and leant forward, bent legs begining to shake ..... "You smoke too much.... Always with the pipe, Aric.... Puff ....puff .... puff.... like a volcano! At your age your breathing shouldn't be so..... heurgh.... heurgh.... heurgh!"  
It was a devastatingly accurate impression. Aric, who'd been about to reach for his pre-filled pipe in the ashtray beside the bed, decided he could wait a while longer..... instead he cupped both hands under Aprielle's arse, braced his feet against the mattress and began to thrust his strong hips, pushing his cock slowly up into his mate.....  
Aprielle's concentration began to waver as Aric's knot grew..... "Always you say.....Ahhh.... I will cut back..... Ahhh ahhh ahhh..... I will smoke less.... Oh yes, there....!" Both hands landed on Aric's chest as Aprielle lean't forward, pink fringe flopping over his eyes, he could feel the sweat of Aric's chest underneath his palms..... " I want us too ..... Ahhh ahhh..... Aric..... Grow old together..... " The words faded away as by instinct the Omega began to work himself down against the full pressure of the Alpha's knot ...  
Aric reached up and let his hands caress the Omega's body as Aprielle chased his own pleasure, hips rocking Aric's full knot against his prostrate, his breath coming in ever shorter desperate gasps.....until he came suddenly with a sharp cry and a white splattering of come spraying hotly over the rise of Aric's body and that was enough to make Aric grunt and clutch at his mates back as he followed after him.....

"I'll cut back.... half a pouch of tobacco a day, not two ..... For you.... You are right. I smoke too much...." Aric promised as soon as he could find breath enough to speak.....  
Aprielle's satisfied smile was sphinx like....

As the night gave way to the dawn Aprielle became sleepy and sated.... the voice that chatted and joked with Aric between bouts of driven lust was softened and content.  
Aric held Aprielle to him, fingers stirring over the bare skin of his mate's shoulder.  
"I'm happy you are home, Aric...."  
"Good.... I'm happy to be here , with you." He was more than merely happy.... the sense of relief was profound..... Body and mind, both felt de-stressed. "Is that it.... is it over now?" he asked his mate as Aprielle closed his dark eyes.....  
"I think so," Aprielle mumbled. He knew sometimes Aric wished the heat could last longer but the day was all they had..... He barely felt the kiss Aric placed on his full lips because by then everything had slipped away into an exhausted sleep.

Aric was up early.... using the heart shaped pancake mold to make Aprielle's favourite breakfast.....  
The cats were weaving around his feet, tails waving in the air hoping he'd give them the last of the beaten egg mix....  
Aprielle was laughing.... stealing strawberries from the plate to share between Aric and himself.....  
The door bell rang.  
"I'll get it," Aprielle said.  
Aric slid a heart shaped pancake out onto the plate....  
The sound of shouting amid supppressed gunshots came from the hallway immediately followed by screaming.... shrill, agonised and deafening.......


	71. Bad Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleksander's testimony is heard......
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think its time Charles shortcomings as a parent are exposed before the court.....
> 
> Willy....a small child's word for penis.
> 
> Blue ....The track is Bad Love by RY X.

"Due to the serious nature of the injury sustained by Herr Weber's bondmate in the recent incident that occurred at their home , Herr Weber is unable to attend in person today. He will be joining us from the hospital live via web cam to witness Aleksander Magnussen's testimony." The Legate paused as a uncharacteristically exhausted and dishevelled looking Aric took his seat...and took the time to address the lawyer directly..... "Herr Weber you have the sympathy of this court and its sincere best wishes for your bondmate's recovery from his injuries."  
Aric altered the camera angle .... behind him Aprielle lay still and waxen faced in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers....one hand and part of his arm was heavily bandaged and rested in a blue hospital sling suspended in the air to one side of his bed. Underneath the bandages was the raw stump of what reminded of Aprielle's fingers. "Thank you Legate and thank you for agreeing to facilitate my participation in this manner," the lawyer said.  
"I know I speak for all my fellow judges when I commend the professionalism you have shown under such difficult circumstances." There was a murmur of assent from his fellow judges sat either side of the Legate.

"Aleksander Magnussen is a minor, I therefore expect his evidence to be heard in the respectful silence his young age merits." The Legate set out his terms. "Failure to do so will result in this evidence being heard on another session in a closed court with the parents of the child and their legal representatives present only."  
On the huge, widescreen of the court television a still screen stating the name of the witness and the case number flickered unsteadily.  
ALEKSANDER MAGNUSSEN.  
Sherlock's eyes didn't leave the tv screen once. He was so close to hearing Aleksander's voice again.

At the Legate's nod Aleksander's face filled the screen. The child's heavy fair hair was filled with a soft golden light from the window.  
The Legate had removed his legal robes and with them the air of medieval ritual.... the suit he was wearing was as exclusively bespoke as any of Myroft's own but without the heavy chain of office and the ermine edged crimson robes he looked less intimidating and distant.  
"The boy got big, didn't he?" Riddick said under his breath and Sherlock nodded once.  
"Hello Aleksander, it's a pleasure too meet you." The Legate was saying with a friendly, almost avuncular politeness.  
Sherlock found he was holding his breath.....waiting to hear his son answer....waiting to hear his voice.  
"Hello, Sir." Aleksander offered a handshake. His manners impeccable if a little disturbingly perfect for a child of his age.  
"Do you know why you have come here to talk with me today?" The Legate said.  
Aleksander sat very still.... "Yes, Sir. Fader says I have to talk to you about about our family."  
"That's correct." The Legate said agreeably. "Among other things.... We'll sit and have a little talk and then we'll have some cake and then we'll talk a little more.... There's nothing to worry about, anything you say will be a secret kept between you and me."  
Sherlock's sharp intake of breath was audible....

The Legate gestured to stop the footage immediately. "Is there a problem, Sherlock?"  
"You told Aleksander what he said to you would be private and it's not." Sherlock's voice was quiet but distinctive.  
Magnussen raised his brows at the sight of his Omega criticising the Legate. "And this is the end result of too much indulgence....insolence and open disrespect from Omega to Alpha." Charles spoke to Milne but made sure his voice was audible throughout the court.  
The Legates hooded eyes fell on Magnussen for one still moment....."You disagree with that, Sherlock?" He asked the Omega directly.  
Sherlock hesitated.... "Yes. You gave him a promise you never meant to keep. If he finds out you lied and what he said isn't secret he'll feel betrayed and hurt...."  
Count Alexei's bored aristocratic drawl tone cut across Sherlock.... making a comment that was designed to carry and be heard...."Boo hoo.... is the child an Omega that cries at the world like a girl?"  
Sherlock stopped talking abruptly.... shoulders stiffly hunching.  
"It's an unavoidable part of what we must do here.... To ascertain the truth." The Legate answered Sherlock with a calm concentrated attention focusing on the Omega only. "You have concern for your son and don't wish to see him upset, which is understandable..... that focus on his welfare is as it should be in a mother....nevertheless we are here to see the bigger picture."

"Let's begin with some very easy questions. I've been told you are a very bright boy so I'm sure you will know all of the answers...... Now I must ask you this first even though I already know the answer.....some things must be done correctly." He smiled at the child. "What is your name?"  
"Aleksander."  
"And your last name?"  
"Magnussen. It's the same as Fader."  
"Shall I guess how old you are?.... I think ....you look tall enough to be six?"  
Aleksander looked pleased to be thought older. "I'm five."  
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"  
"No, Sir....." Aleksander fidgeted in the chair. A whole body wriggle.  
"Neither did I. When I was a boy..... I lived with my father like you ..... and also with my Mother...." The Legate put the idea of a mother out there and let it sit. "I'm very old now so toys have probably changed a great deal but when I was a little boy I had hundreds of toy soldiers...."  
Aleksander's face lit up. "I have soldiers.... five have parachutes..... I had six but the maid stood on one and broke it. She's very stupid so I pushed her..... Who dares wins, that's the SAS motto. A motto is something they all think, Fader told me that."  
Mycroft's mouth straightened disapprovingly upon hearing Aleksander had pushed his maid.  
"Ah.....parachutes," The Legate said. "My army had canons and horses."  
Aleksander looked interested in that. " If your army has horses it's called cavalry. Tanks beat horses. You can blow a house up with tanks so only a big smoke hole in the ground is left. You could blow a hundred horses up...."  
"Did you learn that at school?"  
"A book in Fader's library. It has a picture of a dead man in it.... his hands were like this...." Aleksander clawed both his hands suddenly and set his face into a deathly rictus.  
The Legate was already intrigued.... the Magnussen child had inherited the mother's impulsively expressive nature and not Charles Magnussen's coldly authoritative one it seemed....

"Do you like to read?"  
A very definate nod...." I'm the best reader in my class....teacher said. They all read the baby books.... The red cat sat on the blue mat in the small room. The green frog sits on the brown log in the big pond...."Aleksander's dismissive rendition showed exactly what he thought of that.  
"You find that boring?"  
"I like exciting things." Aleksander was very sure. "Not stories about silly trains with faces. Those are for babies."  
John saw the corner of both Sherlock's and Mycroft's mouths lift in an almost identical knowing smile.

The Legate paused and chose a simple question to build the boy's confidence that he could answer and be right..... " At school do you wear a school uniform?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"What colour is your uniform?"  
"Dark green and grey. We have a book bag too and it's green. It has your name on it.... but I lost mine. Teacher got cross but Fader got a new one and new books and then she had to be not cross anymore."  
"How did you come to lose it?" The Legate watched as the child fidgeted and almost put one finger bitten thumb in his mouth.  
"I think it was magic. Because I put it in a safe place and next day it had gone. Poof.... " Aleksander confided."But nobody believes me."  
Sherlock watched his son closely, a shiver running through his thin body in the cold space of the court room....  
"Well I think I'll believe you. You seem like a very clever boy to me." The Legate won his first smile.

"I'd like us to talk about school and friends but perhaps we can talk about the things you like first?"  
"I like dogs?" Aleksander asked.  
"Dogs?" The Legate asked.  
" Yes, Sir.... " Aleksander fidgeted in his chair. Bored with sitting still.  
"I breed and show minature daschunds. It has long been my hobby. Do you know what kind of dog those are?"  
Aleksander smiled. "Yes they look like sausages with legs."  
"They do indeed." The Legate replied.  
"I have a book. It's red. It's got all the dogs in the world in it." Aleksander said. "Page 16 is the daschund facts and page 37 and 54 are pictures of a daschund."  
"You remember the page numbers?" The Legate was surprised.  
"Yes, Sir." Aleksander seemed surprised anyone was impressed by that. "Can your dogs jump?"he asked.  
"Not very well."The Legate replied." My favourite is rather old and has become very fat and lazy."  
"Being fat isn't good for dogs. You need to make him run about more....I could help walk him. I'd make him run fast...."Aleksander frowned, something clearly on his mind.... "Fader's friend Alexei has doberman but they aren't a pet so I can't stroke them. They are there to guard the house and bite bad people. I'm not a bad person but they wouldn't know that.... Fader says we have some now at Apple Dore for when Sherlock comes home."  
"Best to stay well away from trained guard dogs like that.... Do you have any pets?"  
"No. I'm not allowed." Aleksander sounded unhappy about that.  
"But you'd like a pet?"  
"Fader says animals are a nuisance but I like dogs." Aleksander said quietly.

" Tell me about the house you live in here in London?"  
"I live in a penthouse.... its bombproof and gas attack proof....."  
"And you have another home in Denmark...Apple Dore? Do you like staying at one house more than the other?"  
"Apple Dore." Aleksander was very sure." Apple Dore is best."  
"Because....?"  
"I can go outside and play and there's snow."  
"And when you are staying in the penthouse where do you play?"  
"At school in the playground."  
"Let's imagine you're at home and you want to run as fast as you can...... where could you run races at home in the penthouse?"  
"The long corridor but I can't go down there anymore because of Fader's new room... now there's a wall."  
The chaperone accompanying Aleksander cleared his throat twice and the child stopped talking immediately.  
"A locked room? That could be a big adventure." The Legate glanced at the chaperone sharply, brows furrowed.  
"It's just a boring door .... it's always locked. With numbers not a key."  
" I see.... At home where do you play with your toy soldiers?"  
"In my bedroom."  
"And who plays games with you at home?"  
Aleksander looked surprised by that question...."Nobody. I'm not a baby. I don't have a Nanny anymore and the maid says she has work to do."

"When you get up for school who helps you dress and serves you breakfast?"  
" I can dress me.... The maid serves breakfast."  
"And who takes you to school?"  
"My bodyguards. I have four. If someone tries to take me away they have to get shot to save me...even if it makes them dead. "Aleksander sounded impressed by that.  
"And lunch? Where do you eat that meal?"  
"At school we eat in our class.... teacher says no messy food, no yoghurts or oranges."  
"You like yoghurts and oranges?"  
"I don't like yoghurt it tastes like runny sugary cheese. I don't like cheese especially hot cheese."  
Same as me.... Sherlock thought.  
"And at home where do you eat lunch?"  
"In my room with the maid."  
"And at dinnertime?"  
"I eat with Fader when he's home and sometimes he's busy so I have to eat in my room with the maid... Once I kept dropping peas on purpose and she kept getting up to pick them up....it was funny. One went all the way under the bookcase." Aleksander's smile showed a missing tooth.  
John watched Sherlock and Riddick as they both watched the screen.  
"When your Fader has dinner with you do you talk to him about all the things you did that day?"  
"Sometimes....." Aleksander tried so hard to remember what the right answer was unaware of the worry clear on his face. "But it's hard to talk and be careful I don't make any mess eating."  
"If you made a mess by accident would that be bad?"  
Aleksander squirmed in his seat. "No..." he didn't sound sure.  
"Sometimes grown ups get cross about the importance of good table manners.... My Father would tell me to sit up straight and eat properly.... Would your Fader ever say something like that?"  
Aleksander said nothing. His feet swung in the air nervously. "Fader never gets cross with me,"he said.  
"Lets take a break and eat a slice of cake shall we?" The Legate said perceptively.

When the footage continued Aleksander looked much happier. "That was the best cake...." he was saying as the audio began abruptly.  
Mycroft saw Sherlock smile and lean a little towards Riddick.  
"He still loves cake." Sherlock whispered behind his hand, he sounded relieved and Mycroft watched the way the Legate's hooded eyes lingered thoughtfully on Sherlock long after the Omega had looked back at the screen.

"At school do you have lots of friends you like too play with?" The Legate knew the answer to the question already, having read his paperwork. Despite being so bright .... or perhaps because of it .... Alekander struggled to make and keep friends.  
"No because they are all stupid babies in my class...." Aleksander was outspoken. Angry. "Once I bought in a book for teacher to read but nobody was sitting up straight to listen, only me, so she stopped reading it."  
"How did that make you feel? When the teacher stopped reading a book you liked?"  
"Cross. Hot and cross." Aleksander still sounded resentful about it. "She read all of stupid Miffy the Rabbit."  
"It's always more fun when someone reads a story aloud to you...." The Legate was caught off guard by the child's angry reaction. "Does someone read to you at home or tell you a story ...at bedtime maybe?"  
"No... because the maid is stupid. I can read better than she can!" Aleksander's dislike of the unfortunate maid was obvious. "Sherlock told me stories.... he said he didn't need the book because he has lots of true stories inside his head that are more exciting and he doesn't like books about Alpha being best at everything...."  
"That awful book..." Sherlock muttered under his breath to Alan.... remembering how Alpha focused and dismissive of Omega every story had been.

If the Legate was surprised to hear the child mention his mother for the first time he hid it well....  
Charles Magnussen's face was set hard... he had no idea when Sherlock had taken advantage of the brief opportunity to tell Aleksander stories  
The child was animated , wriggling excitedly in his seat. "Sherlock tells stories about real times and people. Things that really happened and there's a mouse in the story who sees everything.... Cheese The Mouse just says squeak in a tiny voice but he was most clever and brave of all... Sherlock makes all the voices.... a barky big voice for Red Beard the Pirate.... he did a funny voice for Queen that sounded like her mouth was this small..." Aleksander held up his hand , fingers and thumb made a small circle and tried to make the voice, like Sherlock had.  
"That sounds like a great deal of fun...."  
The sound of more coughing could clearly be heard.  
Aleksander's face fell , crestfallen. He wasn't meant to say anything good about Sherlock , he knew that... His face was red with guilt...." I didn't like the stupid stories.... I only pretended....I hate them! I hate him! "  
Whoever was in that room was making sure Aleksander didn't say anything he shouldn't! Sherlock took a deep breath in and held it.....under the table his leg began to shake and he sensed Mycroft's eyes on him... Alan sat very still, made sure he looked at the tv screen only and underneath the heavy table, snuck his palm on Sherlock's thigh and left it there.

"Sherlock has come to my court because he says he would very much like to see you again.... How does thinking about seeing him again make you feel?" The Legate's voice was kind.  
"No...." Aleksander's voice was stubborn. Ready to throw a tantrum if pushed. "I don't want to. I don't want to!"  
Sherlock winced inside.  
"He's been gone a very long time , I know but you remembered the stories he told you so well.... Do you think if you try really hard you can remember anything else about Sherlock?" The Legate flattered the child , giving him a chance to shine and prove he was clever... hoping to provoke another memory....  
"He had a big bruise on his face and his mouth was hurt..." Aleksander's childish voice was crystal clear.  
The chaperone could be heard clearing his throat pointedly again and this time the Legate stood up. Onscreen the recording stopped....

"At this point in proceedings I requested that the court appointed chaperone leave the room and upon agreement between myself, Herr Weber and Mr Milne, a fellow judge took his place, " The Legate looked directly at Magnussen. "The man appeared to be suffering from a persistent cough that was disruptive and distracting for the child...." That he believed that cough to be no coincidence was very clear.  
Mycroft turned his own head to give Charles a contemptuous stare. To attempt to control his own son's testimony like that was manipulative and extreme... it spoke to the lengths Charles was prepared to descend to in order to win.

Onscreen the footage began again...  
The Legate made sure he kept his tone level although the child's previous reply was unexpectedly revealing .... "You say Sherlock was hurt? Did he tell you what had happened?"  
"He burst it...."Aleksander said."Like bang , squash with a strawberry!"  
"Was it bleeding?"  
"Yes. He was hiding" Aleksander remembered, his eyes wet with lucent tears...."He fell down and hit his head."  
"How was he hiding? Can you show me? "  
Aleksander curled up into a cowering ball, arms covering his head......  
When the child uncurled and looked to him for reassurance.... the Legate took a moment before speaking .... "Was he hiding in a game?"  
Aleksander shook his head , firmly silent.  
"Was he hiding from someone?"  
Aleksander nodded.  
"Someone who scared him?"  
Aleksander's nod was very big.  
"Do you know who he was hiding from?"  
Another nod.  
"You saw who it was?.... And you remember?"  
Aleksander nodded. Mute.  
"But you don't want to tell me who else was there?"  
A shake of his head. Small. Reluctant.  
"Where you scared when Sherlock was hiding? When he was hurt?"  
Aleksander's thumb drifted up into his mouth to self comfort.....  
"Shall we play a board game....it's called Crocodiles Boot?" The Legate asked."The first crocodile to find all the boots in the swamp that are the same colour as his hat wins...."  
Aleksander talked round the thumb still in his mouth, it gave his voice a babyish lisp..."Yeth...."

"Tell me the things you like the most about your Fader." The Legate could already predict the child's biased response....as was all too common in cases of parental alienation the child's viewpoint had obviously been influenced and was unbalanced.  
Aleksander thought very hard.... " My Fader is the best...He's strong.... and clever.... he knows secrets before you tell him.... and he has special things but I can touch them if I ask because one day they will be mine....."  
The Legate nodded encouragingly. "Tell me about some of the special things your Father owns?"  
Aleksander thought about that.... "The China vase....its old."  
"Just the vase...?" The Legate probed gently...  
"And a painting....of Sherlock.... but it's rude."  
"Rude?.... How?"  
"Because Sherlock has'nt got any clothes on..... you can see his willy."Aleksander announced loudly.  
In the court Alexei leaned forward to watch the Omega intently, and Sherlock flushed a deep crimson and looked away .  
"When somebody is painted with no clothes on it's called a nude.... A painting or a photograph of somebody, with clothes on, can be a good way for us remember somebody that was important to us.... Does the face of the painting look like Sherlock does when you remember him?"  
"Sherlock's beautiful. He has silver glitter in his eyes...." Aleksander was openly fascinated by that.  
The Legate's smile was encouraging...."Indeed he does. He's a very striking young man..... At home do you have many photographs of you and Sherlock together to help you remember when he lived with you?"  
Aleksander seemed confused by that idea...."No...."  
"Are there photographs of you as a baby?"  
"Yes. I had a wooden duck toy. It's yellow." Much more certain.  
"And are there photographs of you with your Father?"  
"Yes. Lots."  
" I see.... and are there photographs of Sherlock with your Fader?"  
"There's lots," Aleksander nodded. "A big one in Fader's study and in Fader's bedroom there's a whole wall just of Sherlock."  
Sherlock edged a little closer to Alan. The words sent a cold chill down his spine. 

"Sometimes when we miss someone so much that it makes us feel sad and a bit angry inside.... it's good to talk about all the happy times we had with that person when we were with them.....Can you remember doing any fun things outside in the garden , just you and Sherlock?"  
Aleksander pulled a thinking face as he thought extra hard. "No.... Sherlock stayed inside."  
The Legate didn't give up ..... "You remember the stories and how Sherlock looked so well .... Do you remember him playing games with you in the nursery, with your toys?"  
Aleksander's face was miserable....."No....."  
The Legate watched as Sherlock looked down and wiped at his eyes brusquely, with a sleeve pulled down around one hand, body tense as though angry with himself.  
"No...? Do you remember cuddling with Sherlock? Or his scent?"  
Aleksander nodded....."He smells like birthday cake."  
"You liked his scent?"  
Another big nod.... very sure.  
"When Sherlock gave you a cuddle did that make you feel happy and loved?"  
The nod this time was slower, unsure.... face less happy..... then a headshake....  
"Are you remembering something you'd like to tell me about?"  
Aleksander was openly unhappy now, lower lip jutting out.  
"It can be a secret.... nobody will know...." A lie to prompt confession.  
"I gave him a best, big hug... two arms .... and he went ow...ow ...ow."  
"It hurt him?"  
Aleksander nodded....  
"Did he say why a big hug hurt him?" The Legate asked although the reason seemed sadly all too obvious given Magnussen's tendancy to abuse his Omega...  
Aleksander nodded.... "He said it wasn't my fault.... He was very stupid sometimes and he banged into things and had sore bones."  
The Legate said gently.... "What are bones Aleksander, do you know?"  
Aleksander nodded..."Bones make you strong but you can't see them because they are inside you. You have bones under your skin."  
"Clever boy, that was a very good explanation of what bones are.... Did Sherlock say how he had become hurt?"  
Aleksander shook his head. "No."  
"Could you see a bruise or a hurt?"  
Aleksander shook his head emphatically. "No... I told him show me and he wouldn't, I said I'd tell Fader that he said no to me ..... but he said please don't .... he couldn't show because the worst hurt was inside him."  
John watched Alan's face.

"At school... do some of the other boys live with a father and no mother like you do?"  
"No, everybody has their mummy." Aleksander wriggled about in his seat, almost getting down at one point...."Rudi got a new one because his old mummy died having his baby sister."  
"When something like that happens and somebody dies it is always a sad situation. You should expect Rudi to be unhappy for a while."  
"What's a situation?"  
"It's a grown up way of saying that death is always very sad for everybody who loved that person."  
"Why don't you just say it's sad they died?" Aleksander thought that was very silly.  
"You know, I have no idea." The Legate smiled at the child....  
Aleksander smiled back trustingly.

 

"Now I have to ask you two special questions from two gentlemen called lawyers who know your Fader and your Mother and then you can ask me some questions you would like me to answer for you, if you would like that?" The Legate's lifetime of experience had shown him time and time again that allowing a child to ask their own questions could be extremely revealing.... "Would you like to choose an envelope to open first?"  
The child took his time, heisitant despite both envelopes being white, plain and identical ..... "That one."

"Do you know that it isn't your fault that Sherlock went away.... because it's very important that you know nothing you did or said ever made him unhappy?" Even though the envelope was anonymously blank, the Legate was no fool..... the unselfish, unmanipulative nature of the question....focused only on helping the child heal any feelings of blame..... told him that this envelope contained the single, solitary question Sherlock had been permitted to ask his son.  
"I did _something _bad," Aleksander's lower lip wobbled.... "He forgot my birthday....he forgot _me _! "____  
Sherlock wiped his eyes angrily then turned his head slowly and stared across the court at Charles seated figure..... an unhidden contempt on his face.  
"He came here to court to try and see you again,"the Legate said very kindly. "If he had truly forgotten you do you think he would have come to my court to ask me to let him do that?"  
Aleksander slowly shook his head. 

__

____

The Legate reached for the last sealed envelope and opened it...."Would you like Sherlock to come home and live with you and your Fader again?" The Legate read the heavily biased question as neutrally as he could.  
"Yes." One word . One very definate answer. "Because then... nobody in my school will tease me anymore."  
"The boy's at school tease you?"  
"Yes." Aleksander's face was angry.  
"What do they say?"  
"Tobias said Sherlock is a bad word." Aleksander didn't want to say the word. "And Lucien said I'm a know-it-all crybaby so that's why Sherlock didn't want me."  
"Other children can be very cruel. Always remember sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never harm you.... How did what they said make you feel inside?"  
"I hit him and he fell down and cried." Aleksander was proud. Boasting."I punched him. I won! "  
Alan heard the troubled, worried emotion behind the anxious intake of breath Sherlock took.... " Alpha boys'll scrap," he said in a low voice."It's how they are sometimes..."  
"And now .... are you and Tobias friends again?" The Legate knew chidren usually let go of grudges easily.  
"No...." Aleksander squirmed around in the chair...."He had to go away because his daddy died... and then his mummy died.... because he said mean things. That's why they had too die."  
The Legate frowned thoughtfully believing it to be nothing more than the exagerated tales of an imaginative little boy......

"Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?" The Legate made the offer.  
"Can you make Sherlock come home? " Aleksander wanted to know.  
"I can....If that is what I decide is right."  
"Even if he won't ?"  
The Legate nodded thoughtfully. "I have the power to make those decisions on Sherlock's behalf."  
" You have to give him back. He belongs to Fader. Someone stole him and stealing is wrong.... Fader says when he comes home now nobody bad can take him away again."  
"Stealing is wrong," The Legate concurred...."If Sherlock was very unhappy to come home do you think he still should come?"  
Aleksander was becoming overwhelmed and tearful....frustrated emotion and longing for his mother getting the better of him. "Yes..... because he belongs to Fader and he's my mummy.... he can't be a whore.... he's my mummy."  
"Come home Sherlock and stop being a whore!" Alexei's spiteful, delighted laughter was the only sound in the stunned courtroom. "No less than the simple truth, from the mouth of an infant. Sherlock.... how can any Mother refuse?"  
The Alpha side of the packed court exploded into loud comment and guffawing laughter. Alexei smiled maliciously at Mycroft as though to say what can you do.....?

The Legate bought the gavel down repeatedly, hammering the court into an uneasy respectful submission while the footage was stopped.... while Sherlock sat still and motionless in his chair and stared longingly at the flickering image of his son on the screen as though he heard none of the uproar surrounding him.

Aric Weber made sure the webcam link was off before standing and returning to the chair placed besides Aprielle's bed....he raised his mates uninjured hand to his lips and placed the traditional mark of respect upon it...  
"Aric?..." Aprielle's voice was slurred from the heavy cocktail of pain medication he was on....  
" Yes....The Legate wished you well...." Aric stroked Aprielle's arm lovingly.  
"Did it work....like you said....in your favour?" Aprielle pressed the morphine drip to deliver the pain relief he needed. "Too see me hurt....did it sway the Legate our way?"  
Aric nodded.... "Mycroft says so.... He was able to read the Legate's reactions. Your courage and suffering tugged at the heartstrings, Aprielle.... The Legate knows Magnussen must have been involved in hiring the woman who attacked you and that we suspect him of involvement in the murder of Alan Riddick's sister.... Aleksander's testimony was damning.... Word is that the Legate has already spoken with Milne to advise him that Charles may wish to accede on the issue of visitation rather than publicly lose in court before the bond dissolution hearing begins.... He will rule in favour of Sherlock having visitation with the child tomorrow."  
Aprielle was slipping in and out of consciousness ...."My hand.... is no loss... I give all I have too help you, Aric.... for Omega ... "  
Aric's dark eyes were wet with tears as his mate began to drift away from him into another fitful troubled sleep.... "Magnussen will pay for what he has done to you....We will show the world what low manner of an Alpha and a man he really is...."


	72. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds out that winning the legal right to see his son isn't his only problem......
> 
> Charles is deliberately cruel.....no surprises there!  
>  
> 
> ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry....I try really hard not to miss a weekly update but life has been a nightmare. Adam has been sick with flu.....its been germ central here and even though he's not as sick he still doesn't feel good!  
> Next update may be late also. Though hopefully not..I'll need to get some work done and some wages in the bank! 
> 
> Blue the track is Calm Down by J Bernardt.

" I was hoping you had some of that wonderful juniper and organic vension pate?"  
" I'll open a new one specially for you, Sir."  
Mycroft was in Harrod's food hall , the very last person being served at the long glass fronted delicatessen counter as the store began to close and empty around him.  
He was admiring the ornately painted ceiling with its fresco of rivers, huntsman and game animals patiently when his phone rang.....

Aric Weber wasted no time....he was direct and to the point, having not slept for some time. Mycroft could identify the varied timbres within the lawyer's voice that were caused by fatigue and worry for his injured bond mate.... "I received word from the Legate, Milne called on him in chambers. Charles has acceded on the issue of visitation.... Sherlock may see his son."  
Mycroft saw the assistant standing there with a knife poised over the glazed container full of pate and gestured brusquely to show that would not be a large enough portion..... "Does Sherlock know? Have you told him?"  
"No.... I thought you may like to do that. To be the bearer of good news," Aric said considerately.  
Mycroft wasn't entirely sure this qualified as that. 

Greg was trying to wash his shoes and the hem of his trousers off with an old partly drunk bottle of mineral water from the boot of his car..... having slipped sideways and sunk ankle deep into mud, then been unable to stop himself ending up in a muddy, litter ridden stretch of bramble covered canal bank while trying to retrieve a possible murder weapon.  
Mud covered one side of his new raincoat as high as his hip. " Sod it all, Sally! I spent a lot on this coat!"  
"Dry cleaner might get it out but I wouldn't hold my breath." Sally was pragmatic. No way it was salvageable.  
"Sod it all...." Greg repeated with resigned exasperation.

The palms of both Greg's hands were still covered in cold mud when his phone rang and Mycroft's familiar Elite accent filled his ears as Sally held the phone to his ear for him.....  
"Hello? Mycroft.... now's not the best time...." It didn't surprise him that Mycroft seemed to intrinsically know where he was even in the middle of a huge anonymous city in the middle of a dark, freezing cold night .... it had already become semi normal in a strangely semi stalkerish but not unpleasant way.  
"So I can see.What on earth happened, Gregory?..... Charles acceded. Sherlock has legal visitation rights...."  
"He won ? That's brilliant news...! " Greg's face split into an wide smile. "God! He must be over the moon? .... Just tell him well done from me!"  
"I've not had time to tell him the news .... yet...."  
"What? Why have you called me first?...... Hang up and call him.... No. Mycroft.... Wait! ...I'd go tell him in person, it'll be less of a bolt from the blue." When the silence stretched on a bit too long Greg spoke up...."What's the problem?"  
"The Legate placed certain restrictions.... on any contact.. that Sherlock is likely to object too... You know my brother. He will react.... badly.." Mycroft admitted.  
"Ok, yeah probably..... it couldn't all be good news, could it? ..... That's even more reason to tell him yourself .... Alan's around, he was home when I left Baker Street earlier. He'll calm Sherlock down..."  
"Alan Riddick will object more vociferously than anyone else.... " Mycroft said with a monotone resignation. "I detest shouting."  
"Chin up sexy," Greg said with a shameless grin at Sally's pseudo horrified 'shock' face when she heard him use the endearment... "Alan's more bark than bite these days, it's all those daily doses of domestic bliss with your brother.... Just be direct , don't let him bluster at you....and make sure you stand more than an arms reach back as you tell him...." He was joking.....  
" Light the torch paper and stand well back... _that's _your advice, Gregory? I should simply be blunt and see what happens...." There was a undeniable flustered pleasure audible behind the words.... Sexy? That was unexpected....  
Greg smiled to himself....knowing that word had Mycroft all hot under the collar...."You never know till you try it," he said smokily..... __

Sherlock wasn't answering his phone.....  
In the kitchen Alan had stripped to the waist and was sat on a low stool with slightly damp hair when Sherlock emerged with a large white bath towel and a small black bag. "You're sure you want me to do this?" he checked.  
"Aye.... just run the clipper over on a long blade.... There's now't to it.... Just smarten me up some before court."  
Sherlock set out the clipper and tipped a selection of comb attachments onto the table top..... 

Sherlock stroked long nimble fingers through the damp messy layers of Alan's dark hair....  
Riddick tilted his head back and waited, his eyes fixed intently on Sherlock.  
"You look good like this .... shirtless." Sherlock said softly....suggestively....  
Alan puckered his forehead....Jesus, again? Pregnancy was doing wonders for Sherlock's sex drive but he'd definitely need a minute himself..... Third time today! "The Aunt said I looked homeless between the beard and this...." he gestured at his head. "I've to look smart in court for you, according to her."  
'The Aunt' was wrong. In Sherlock's opinion, Alan looked ruggedly masculine. Sexy.....  
"It's important , isn't it? Looking smart?" Riddick checked to see what Sherlock thought.  
Sherlock sighed.... Why did other people always have to have an opinion when it came to Alan? He wasn't _theirs _to have opinions on....__  
"Sherlock...?" There was doubt in Riddick's voice.  
"It's important," Sherlock agreed, reluctantly turning the hair clippers on until a loud , vibrating buzz filled the small room.

__

Mycroft spoke to his aide as they neared Marble Arch... "Have we located John Watson yet?"  
"Yes, Sir.... he is on his way to Baker Street now..... You asked to be kept appraised if any new card entered play.... Miss Mary Morston works as an ER nurse at St Barts alongside Dr Watson. Dr Watson has been staying at her flat ...he appears to have his own key."  
Mycroft took the manilla folder and opened in at the surveillance photographs of a woman in a preponderance of pink...." Whatever happened to Saul Jefferson?"  
"It would appear... that Dr Watson is currently romantically and/or sexually, involved with both individuals," the aide said without the slightest hint of an opinion on that.  
"Good grief, however does he find the time?" Mycroft remarked pithily. "I understood NHS staff to be overworked and exhausted!"

Of many scenarios that may involve Alan Riddick, that Mycroft had at one time or another, considered he could possibly discover his beloved younger brother doing in the kitchen of 221b .... this particular variant of domesticity had never crossed his mind. "What on earth are you doing Sherlock? There is a perfectly adequate barber's shop a mere fifteen minute walk away.... I believe they also offer a hot towel shave.... " Try as he might the jibe at Alan Riddick's current bearded state was just irresistible. "You have an inordinate amount of hair covering your foot, brother mine."  
"Don't put him off, " Riddick said over the strident metallic buzzing. "Lad's doing fine."  
Sherlock shook a small scattering of dark hair clippings off one bare foot, balancing effortlessly and shaking his pointed toes in what looked like a ballet step; as though he were about to dance away. " You heard , Alan.... Stop distracting me, Mycroft.... I'm doing fine...."

"Hello....? Ok to come in?" John's voice called through from the front door.  
"In here, John!" Sherlock called. "You can put the kettle on, Mycroft's here too and Mrs Hudson made shortbread yesterday...."  
"Ruddy Hell.... may as well start charging tickets at this rate...Get some popcorn.... Make a show of it..." Alan grumbled.  
Sherlock moved back to stand in front of Alan and cupped his chin with one pale hand , encouraging the Alpha to hold his head back and looking at him subjectively as though he was already viewing any future improvements .....  
.John snuck a quick glance at Alan's bare torso..... bloody Hell, Sherlock wasn't joking about the man's six pack...."You know there's a barber just round the corner?" he said dryly as he put the kettle on.  
Alan drew breath and selected a string of varied swear words to use....  
"I'm doing fine.... it's interesting," Sherlock said rapidly before Alan could say anything. "Why are you both here so late? You'll have to take a seat if you want a short back and sides and a chat about condoms.... Mycroft's next...."

Despite Sherlock's nonchalance , Mycroft knew the reason for their impromptu visit was already a source of some concern for his brother. He hadn't missed the tension in Sherlock's hand or the sudden rigidity of his brother's stance. "Aric Weber called me .... The Legate spoke with Mr Milne in Chambers...." Mycroft watched as Sherlock snapped on a new comb attachment that looked significantly shorter than the one he'd been using so far.... he wondered if Sherlock had noticed his own error.....  
Sherlock flicked the hair clippers back onto high accidentally as he tightened his grip on it nervously and the noise level increased as did the vibration through his wrist.... "Problem?" he said cautiously. Oh please let it not be anything bad..... he ran the clipper up into Alan's hair.....

John was smiling at him.... Why was John so happy? Normally seeing him doing anything remotely intimate with Alan made John look tense.....What was going on?  
"On the contary , brother mine.... Charles Magnussen acceded on the issue of visitation.... "  
Sherlock stared at Mycroft his focus totally fixed on his brother.... stopping the clipper high on Riddick's head having cut a brutally short stripe. "He what....?"  
"He acceded...." Mycroft said. Why was Sherlock taking so long to understand this...... Perhaps the noise of the clipper had obscured his words? Unsure if it was truly necessary to reiterate, he hesitated....

Sherlock's unsual inky blue eyes were locked on Mycroft...... the clipper still and vibrating in his hand.  
Alan reached up and stopped Sherlock's hand, taking the clipper away from his head and flicking it off.... Knowing he had to be half scalped he ran a gingerish hand over his own head.....  
"You now have legal visitation rights, Sherlock.... The Legate informed Milne that following Aleksander's testimony he was predisposed to rule in your favour and suggested Magnussen accede to avoid a defeat in open court before the bond severance testimonies are heard... " Mycroft explained slowly..... He waited for it too sink in.....

Sherlock looked lost.... staring at the brutally short stripe that he'd cut through Riddick's hair in utter bewilderment..... He touched the tips of his fingers to it gently as though checking it were real......  
"Don't worry about that, lad," Alan stayed surprisingly calm for a man with what felt like a skinhead tramline going straight over the top of his head....  
"You've won, Sherlock.... Charles has to let you see Aleksander, " John said it as plainly as he could. He had a crazy suicidal urge to laugh at Alan's stunned face. What did the bloke think was going to happen if you gave Sherlock a pair of clippers and let him loose....? It had disaster written all over it.

"You'll get to give him a cuddle...." Alan added, trying to give the lad a verbal prod; when Sherlock still stood there blankly..... He touched Sherlock's hip.....  
Sherlock's dark lashed gaze suddenly seemed to switch on and went unerringly to Mycroft..... "Are you sure.... it's not a trick? This is Charles."  
"His side of the legal paperwork is already signed. I have the paperwork here for your signature, below mine. It is legally binding." Mycroft hastened to reassure Sherlock.  
"When?" Sherlock couldn't manage any other word, "When do I see Aleksander?"  
"Tomorrow at 11, Sherlock...." Mycroft said.  
Sherlock was very aware of each breath he was taking and the way his ribcage expanded each time.... Tomorrow.  
"That soon?" Alan said, he sounded surprised.  
"There are a few ' _restrictions _' regarding access that Sherlock must agree to before the visit can go ahead ...." Mycroft said and from the way he said it Sherlock knew that one or more of those restrictions were something he really wasn't going to like.__

____

"What the Hell is he doing in there?" John made sure to keep his voice lowered since there was no door into the kitchen and he didn't want Sherlock to hear what he said. "We tell him Aleksander's back in his life and he wants to finish cutting Alan's hair?"  
Mycroft took a polite sip of tea. Sometimes the faliure of others, he knew to be intelligent in a normal human way, to deduce what he and Sherlock saw so easily, still came as a surprise.... How was it possible to be unaware that Sherlock wanted to avoid the pain of Alan finding out that he couldn't be present during Aleksander's visit, in front of John and had stolen a moment or two to speak to the man in private? "Nerves, John. I'm sure Sherlock will be out in a moment..... "

"You don't have to finish this, I can have a go myself," Alan wasn't sure what the Hell was going on or why the lad was so frozen. "Go talk to your brother. Find out what time it's happening."  
"I'm going to have to cut it all off. Shave it short." Sherlock said, agitation colouring his voice. "I've ruined it."  
"It's hair. It grows back. Nothing's ruined for good," Alan said. "You did a good job of it."  
Sherlock stood still, hesitating with the clipper in his hand. "The restrictions....on seeing Aleksander.....You know some are about you?" he spelt it out, unsure if Alan had realised yet. "They're going to say you can't be there," Sherlock hated having to tell Alan but he knew he had to.  
"I guessed as much. I took his Omega.... stands to reason he won't want me around his son. Probably thinks I'd tell the boy exactly what went on." Alan scrubbed his head with the towel vigorously , sending small fragmented pieces of hair flying. He was disappointed but there was no point in saying so.  
"I want you there," Sherlock said.  
Alan laid both hands on Sherlock's body , either side of the swollen belly that contained his own son and held the Omega steady. "Aye....and I want to be there. You know that." He took a deep breath in.... "This isn't about me or what I want, lad. This is about you and Aleksander. It's about you getting your arms round him, so he knows you love him. You heard him in Court.... You saw him. Poor little mite, he's everything money can buy but none of it makes up for him having no mother to give him a bit of love...."  
"What if what he said in court is true? What if Charles has got inside his head?.... What if he hates me?" Sherlock had no idea how he was going to put that right.  
"He doesn't. Even if he thinks he does. Even if he acts like it. He needs this..... You need this. Whatever dumb rules that bastard Charles puts on it.... He's the one should be shitting it right now, not you.... he's the one stands to lose it all. Legate ruled against him once , he can do it again...."  
Sherlock pulled Riddick's head against his body and wrapped both arms round to hold Alan there, against his beating heart. 

"What are these stupid restrictions? I want to hear you list them." Sherlock tucked himself into his new black leather and chrome Le Courbusier chair that stood near the window and demanded to know. He could still manage to turn sideways and cram his long limbs up onto the chair despite the dwindling space and his growing belly but it was a tight squeeze.  
He wondered had Mycroft seen the cost of that particular purchase yet....  
Mycroft placed his teacup and saucer down. He had in fact seen the credit card charge but it did no harm to let Sherlock wonder..... When Sherlock hunched up it was always an indicator of anxiety and that was generally followed by a fearful sarcasm, designed to hide just how vulnerable he was feeling. "Primarily they involve which individuals are permitted to be present.... Chaperones...."  
"Alan isn't .... I already know," Sherlock was openly angry. "It's ludicrous!"  
"Mr Riddick is not alone in being considered an undesirable influence...." Mycroft admitted. He gave a tight, false smile, "I'm afraid I am also named on the banned list. Neither Alan Riddick nor myself can be within 221b during the visit. "  
"What the actual fuck?" Sherlock said uncurling violently and suddenly becoming all legs.  
"Sherlock! " Mycroft never ceased to be appalled by his brother's swearing.  
Sherlock stared at him from the chair.... sprawled and defiant. "Oh I'm sorry. Did I offend your sensibilities, brother?.... I'll rephrase.... Do you have any idea....What the actual fucking _fuck _you are saying?"__  
Mycroft drew in a fortifying breath....  
"Do you seriously fucking think I'm going to let anyone Charles has picked as a chaperone get me on my own! Have you any idea what his so called friends are like? .... Are you mad? Is everyone fucking mad except me and Alan?" Sherlock shot out the chair and stood livid upon the rug...."Shit... shit.... shit!"  
"Of course not! Sit down. Stop swearing! ..... Sherlock, please! Remember your condition." Mycroft pleaded for Sherlock to be calm.  
"Fuck off!" Sherlock said succinctly. "And Neep's not a condition."

"Sherlock.... Stop it! Calm down, can't you and let him explain? " John tried to intervene before Riddick came storming in and everything went to shit.  
Sherlock shot a withering look John's way and remained stubbornly standing but he did stop shouting and gesticulating wildly..... "There won't be any baby if Charles gets anywhere near me.... " he spelt it out with a deathly, eerie calm. Plain and simple. "Is that fucking calm enough for you?"  
"He won't," John said. When Sherlock lost it like this there was no controlling him..... "There'll be chaperones. Two. One for you. One for Alek.... " he was about to say Aleksander when Sherlock interrupted.  
"Oh God.... it's Alexei isn't it?" Sherlock said. "That's who his chaperone is?" He sat back down, legs suddenly weak. "Tell me, who do I get to hide behind?.... Did Charles choose that too? Whose been chosen as my chaperone now they've taken Alan out of contention? Mrs Hudson, perhaps....?" He started laughing hysterically.  
"Me!" John raised his own voice up, army style, trying to be heard over the top of Sherlock's snorting fits of laughter. This bitterly sarcastic , damaged Sherlock was nobody he knew and every single time he saw him like this it hurt..... "I'm the approved chaperone!"

____

"What the Hell is going on? I can hear you lot yelling over these" Riddick said from the doorway, the black padded headphones he'd been wearing to listen to music, now stretched around his neck. "What's all the shouting?"  
"Oh you're going to love this! Wait till you hear whose coming for tea tomorrow!" Sherlock said acidly.... "Tell him who the chaperone is Mycroft..... It's Alexei!" He did'nt even give Mycroft a chance to answer. "Mycroft's not even allowed in....you aren't .... but Alexei is!"  
"Are you bloody for real? You expect Sherlock to sit in a room on his own and bond with his son with that lecherous shite cracking sick comments? You're putting him and the baby at risk!" There was a concentrated lethal focus behind Riddick's question.  
"Of course not! Don't be ludicrous! Sherlock will be protected at all times...." Mycroft denied it vehemently and gathered himself.... "Charles suggested his own chaperone, someone Aleksander is accustomed to and knows well.... Sherlock will have his own chaperone to ensure his safety. Milne opposed your inclusion and mine.... "  
"So who does Sherlock get?" Alan cut straight to the point. Aggressively truculent. "If it's not you and it's not me....Magnussen made sure of that .... then who is going to be in there making sure that maniac keeps away from Sherlock?"  
Since nobody else was volunteering that infomation in the face of Riddick's intimidating anger and Sherlock had subsided back into his chair and wasn't speaking up with an answer, John did..... "Me..... Aric pushed for me to be allowed in."  
Alan's irate focus moved John's way and stayed on him....  
John waited for it...... a blinding string of curses and anger....

"Good...... Least it's someone ex military, who knows what he's fucking doing and'll step up if needed.... I'd be happier if it was me but since I can't get in there you're the next best thing.... No offence , John.... " Alan said truculently.  
"None taken," John said. He was surprised to find it was true. If he was Alan he'd be exactly the same.  
"Hello.... does what I think actually matter? I'm not going into a room with Alexei in there!"" Sherlock snapped.  
" Course it does.... C'mon, Sherlock.... it'll be ok with John there, won't it?" Riddick swung his focus towards Sherlock, crouched down and fought to reassure the Omega. He had to resort to a touch... laying his palm on top of Sherlock's knee.... "John'll be there...It'll be alright... C'mon lad. He's your son....Don't let them bully you out of it." Sherlock stared back at him, silent suddenly..... Abruptly Alan zeroed in on Mycroft... "You'll have agents in the street, front and back? Eyes on the house? I've ideas on that..."  
John hadn't expected a measured, professional reaction. From what he'd seen of Riddick, with the exception of Sherlock, the man's approval and trust was hard won.  
Mycroft seemed equally taken aback to have his security questioned... "I'll be delighted should the arrangements meet with your approval," he said sardonically. "When the British Government relies upon one in matters of national security at the highest level it is _so _nice to be considered vaguely competent by members of the public....."  
Sherlock rolled his eyes.... " Don't be pompous, Mycroft," he said. __

____Mycroft took a calming mouthful of tea and aimed to defuse the situation somewhat...."Before we continue, I took the liberty of stopping off at Hamleys where a shore assistant was most helpful in suggesting a few age appropriate games should you find himself at a loss for ideas at any stage in proceedings, Sherlock.... John if you would be so kind? The bags are downstairs in the hall...."  
"Um... I bought a few things too, " John admitted awkwardly as he stood up , very aware of Riddick's bright blue gaze returning to him sharply. "I figured you hadn't had time to get anything, Sherlock..... I got him a few toy soldiers. I loved those when I was a kid...."  
" God! We totally forgot toys! .... Sherlock said in a nervous rush. He looked appalled "What kind of mother forgets toys?"  
"You got him those little sweets for him... that look like caterpillars. It's enough," Alan said kindly. He gave Mycroft and John a look that was impossible to decipher. The last thing Sherlock needed was to feel inadequate.....but they'd meant well. "It's you he'll want to see not Father Sodding Christmas."

__

__John put his mug down and crooked his head, staring at the sitting room layout with a tacticians military eye. "We should move the furniture .... if we move the couch out from the wall and the two chairs we can get Sherlock a bit more privacy..... Adeyev has to be in the same room but there's some room to manoevre legally.... so lets can block his eye line a bit...." John said. "I'll keep him sat in the kitchen at the table."__  
It was an original way of looking at the problem. Typical of John.  
Sherlock's relief was instant and obvious and to John's surprise so was Riddick's.  
"Aye... good idea. Come on John, lets shift some furniture and block that fucker out as best we can." Riddick said.

____

Sherlock frowned. Now they'd moved the couch he could see a problem.... dust and rolls of fluff. " I need to clean.... I need some of that spray thing and Mrs Hudson's hoover. Alan, go borrow..... "He squinted downwards. Those new black socks of Alan's were shedding in some weird way whenever he took them off . Definately he needed to clean that. "Aleksander can't play on this rug. There's sock fluff all over it ....."  
"You're going to attempt housework?" Mycroft found that hard to believe.  
"Yes... Why is that so odd? I've seen Martha do it."  
"I can arrange for a cleaner..." Mycroft suggested mildly.  
"No!.... I want to do it , myself...." Sherlock was already picking up piles of cold case paperwork and stuffing them all haphazardly into the bookcase when Alan appeared with the hoover. "I need a desk.... with drawers.... Mycroft why haven't I got a desk with drawers? I can't live like this , it's disorganised!"  
Mycroft sat back in the armchair then winced and reaching behind him removed a mug and fork from behind the Union Jack cushion.... He held it aloft and raised his eyebrows expressively at his brother...

"Do you want the hoover in here?" Alan hefted it in through the doorway.  
Sherlock had started piling biros up on the mantlepiece... there were an awful lot of them. "Yes. Did you get polish?"  
John didn't think he'd ever seen Sherlock clean before.... usually it was Mrs Hudson , despite her protests that she was no housekeeper, or Alan who picked up the Omega's trail of chaos....he beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised when Mycroft joined him.

"Alan! This hoover's not working! It's broken!" Sherlock jabbed at the on/off button repeatedly with a long finger.  
Alan leant over and pulled at the plug until there was a long length of cord..... " The thing with these electrical appliances is.... it helps to plug them in, lad," he said. As he straightened up he paused, watching Sherlock cover the table in polish and start wiping it in smeary circles.... "Those my new boxers?"  
"What?" Sherlock unfolded the scrunched blue fabric in his hand..... "Ohhhh!" he said.  
"That'd be a yes, then?" Alan said with resignation, having spent more than he normally did on them. Sherlock had shrunk every pair he owned but the one pair Alan had been wearing, in a two hour long tumble drier session on maximum heat.  
"I thought they were the old ones. I can wash them.... Can't I? I'll ask Mrs Hudson...." It dawned on Sherlock that may not be appropriate from the brief flash of a startled look that crossed Alan's face. Maybe not Mrs Hudson.... underpants were clearly a more private thing than he'd thought. "I'll wash them three times.... " Three randomly seemed like a safe number to remove the admittedly overpoweringly lavender scent of furniture polish before putting them anywhere near Alan's groin.....  
"Three's the charm, so...." Alan said. "Maybe don't tumble dry them though." The sweet trust of Sherlock's guilty smile caught him by the throat and held him.....

"Martha's shortbread is out of this world!" John said from the kitchen. He and Mycroft had eaten two prices each already.  
It really was. Buttery and rich, with a melt in the mouth crumbly texture..... Mycroft couldn't agree more.  
"Plate, John! You're getting crumbs everywhere! " Sherlock said. "Right.... new rule. No eating anything outside of the kitchen and plates are not optional! You're not allowed to make a mess any of you!"  
Alan chose not to point out that 98% of the mess in the flat originated from Sherlock.....  
" Plate, John! " Sherlock repeated. He sounded short of breath already from too much bending down.  
John put the entire chunk of shortbread into his mouth and chewed hard, before winking at Sherlock.  
Mycroft deftly held his piece of shortbread behind his back.  
"And that goes for you too, Mycroft!" Sherlock said......

******************

It was the end of a long day and the maid was counting down the minutes until her time on duty ended.  
When the door opened she stood up quickly.... Mr Magnussen hated any slowness in showing him the proper respect.  
"Leave us." Magnuseen's eyes fell briefly on her before moving away dismissively.  
She was relieved to leave the room.... He was a cold man. Nothing warm behind the eyes... like a shark.... black and empty.

Aleksander was reading a book about the ocean.... and wondering if Fader would allow him to have a clown fish..... like Nemo.  
Probably he'd say no.... he always said no to pets...

"What are you reading?" Magnussen moved quietly when he needed too.  
"Fader!...." Aleksander scrambled to his feet.... "About the ocean.... Did you know a giant squid has a eye as big as a man's head, Fader?"  
"I did not...."  
"Did you know giant squid fight sperm whales?" Aleksander was just getting into his stride facts wise.....  
"I need to talk to you." Charles interrupted the child. "Put the book away ."  
Aleksander's face fell.... "Why, Fader?"  
"Did I invite you to question me? No... I gave you a clear instruction...."Charles plucked the book sharply from his son's hand and hurled it away across the bedroom..... "Do as you are told!"

Aleksander stared at his book laying open and bent upon the floor......  
Just like his mother.... it was easy to see the signs of pensive anxiety on his son's expressive face..... "Never question me. Do I make myself clear? Do as I say!" Magnussen's tone was authoritarian and harsh.  
"Yes, Fader." Aleksander felt all hot and prickly.... The fold out map of the sea bed was sticking out of the book like a fat tail. It looked torn.  
He didn't mean to cry like a baby.... the tears came all by themself.

"Stop that snivelling!" Charles seized hold of the hood of his crying son's dressing gown, twisting a handful of it into his fist and walked , semi dragging his running son alongside, storming out of the nursery and down the long corridor with Aleksander panicking and wailing alongside him. "You are not an Omega! You are _my _son and you will act accordingly!"__

____

Charles private sitting room was dark, lit only by the oversized lamps that cast wide arcs of white light upward to illuminate the painting of Sherlock's naked body. The butler Zaman was laying a light evening meal for one on the low table.  
"Get out." Charles snapped and the man vanished like a wraith.

Charles released the child abruptly and stood motionless as his son cried.  
Shuddering sobs of shock rocked the child's small body while his Fader stood unmoving and looked only at the oil painting.

"You hurt me!" Now he'd stopped crying the child was outraged .... accusatory. More angry and shocked than hurt.  
Charles stared at the canvas, seeing the shadowed dip under Sherlock's hip and the lean muscle of his thigh, the way his slim cock lay limply..... He could feel his own mouth begin to water...  
Charles hand moved restlessly as he rubbed his palm and the bond ring upon it against his own trouser front. Sherlock had always been so pale and perfect....so obstinately beautiful. When struck his eyes became a deep , almost indigo blue as the colour ebbed from his face until he was the purest porcelain..... A hard blow left raised red and white welts on that flawless skin like a brand.... marks that Charles could fit his hand back into afterwards to feel the scalding hot sting of his violence smeared across his Omega's face......

"You broke my book!..... Fader!"  
The familiar title bought Magnussen's focus back down to the child.  
Injustice and distress had coloured Aleksander's face. His soft childish face with its plumpness and curves was vividly mottled in high shades of red and white.  
Snot faced and teary eyed....  
The child looked nothing like his mother now.  
"You are to be taken to visit Sherlock in the squalor in which he now lives with his lover... I will not be there with you..... Know that you have disappointed me today....You act as though you are part Omega....weak and hysterical. Needy..... Do not do so tomorrow.... Remember who you are and what Sherlock is.... the cock hungry Omega whore who abandoned you without a second thought!" Charles turned his back on Aleksander and strode away slamming the study door behind him.

After some time Zaman appeared silently and escorted the tear stained child back to his room and to bed.


	73. Back In The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a stressful start to his day Sherlock is reunited with his son.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> мальчик is the Russian word for boy.  
> Cyka блять means bitch whore.
> 
> Weird series fact....the bat in Sherlock's room is called The Epauleted Bat but that's a made up name. No such bat exists.
> 
> Blue the track is Back In The Water by HAEVN.

"I'll have to drop you here, there's a traffic diversion up ahead...." The mincab driver said. "Must be something big happening .... Maybe a Royal visit. Could be Harry and that Markle one, you think?"  
"Could be..." John agreed, knowing full well it'd be Mycroft's security measures. "It's ok, I'll get out here." He had barely slammed the cab door when he was surrounded.  
"BBC News..... Any chance of a quick interview, John? How's Sherlock feeling about his son's first visit today?"  
John straightened up to say sod off and found himself facing a posse of journalists and among them a small three man film crew stood right in his way ..... A huge furry microphone was being held overhead on a boom... this was going out live!  
At times like this his rugby training came in useful as he sidestepped easily. "No comment," John kept it just friendly enough, already looking for his keys so he could open the door fast when he reached it. He walked off at a faster pace, leg muscle aching dully as he put it under pressure....

"John!.....Has Sherlock talked to his son before today?"  
"Mind out.... there's a lady with a buggy behind you." John pointed her out to the oblivious journalists who were blocking the path, then pushed past them doggedly and made his way towards the door  
"Come on, John! Sherlock's the first Omega to walk out on his bond and be granted child access .... that has to be worth a quote I can use on the front page?" Saul's familiar voice bought John to a brief standstill as their eyes met in acknowledgement.  
John grinned and shook his head, knowing Saul was only doing his job ....."No comment, Saul.... you know that." The camera flashes were blinding him....  
"Anything in that bag for Aleksander, John?"  
Before John could answer there was a scuffle at the back....  
"Is it true he said he hates his mother?" Another journalist pushed in front of Saul to ask his question as John fitted his key in the front door.  
John turned round fast before controlling his reaction..... "He's a child. He barely remembers his mum. Of course he doesn't hate Sherlock."  
"Can I quote you on that , John?" came an anonymous shout.  
"You can _all _quote me on this..... Sherlock Holmes loves his son. He wants to spend time with Aleksander, he always wanted that!" and with that John banged the door shut.__

____

 

Riddick looked stressed and it didn't take John more than a few seconds to work out why..... Sherlock was still in bed but it looked like he hadn't slept. "You alright, Sherlock?"  
"I think it's nerves... he didn't sleep." Alan had a wet face flannel and was wiping Sherlock's face. Sherlock didn't seem like he was going to answer for himself as per usual... "Stomach's been at him, he's been in and out the loo all morning...."  
"How many times?" John asked.  
"Hello....personal boundaries...." Sherlock grimaced as John reached for one pale wrist to check his pulse.  
"I'm a Doctor," John said. "So what do we have here Mr Holmes.... diarrhoea, vomiting or that lovely combo of both ends same time?" He had the blood pressure cuff on now.....  
"Don't answer that...." Sherlock ordered Alan.  
"Iffy stomach.... he threw up everything he ate for breakfast mid way through eating it," Alan said regardless of Sherlock's order.  
"Ok.... Any low backache, tightening feelings that could be contractions or bloody discharge, Sherlock?" John asked. He hoped it wasn't early labour but he had to rule it out.  
"You're both being all kinds of gross," Sherlock said and turned his back, huffily, in one awkward pregnant move.  
"Is that a yes or a no?" John said with a shameless perseverance.... he saw the corner of Riddick's mouth twitch upward....  
"It's a no...." Sherlock said haughtily, keeping his back turned. "How do normal people date Doctors? All that work talk about bodily functions and examinations of intimate body parts has to be a big turn off...."  
John lifted both eyebrows at the deliberate rudeness. Right.... "That reminds me I bought a stool sample pot.... Don't make me decide I need to ask you for one asap?"  
Sherlock rolled back over as fast as he could in a flourish of dressing gown.....it didn't sound like an empty threat.... "You wouldn't dare!"  
John grinned exageratedly and held it for long enough to look deliberately creepy. "Wouldn't I? That's the funny thing about us _undateable _Doctors, no degree of 'gross' is too much in the quest of medical knowledge...."  
"I may have been exagerating when I said that.... about you being undateable...... After all Saul and whoever the blonde woman is who left her perfume all over you, clearly both think they're dating you!" Sherlock said with a wide, blue eyed insolence that made John laugh out loud.__

__

__"Sorry if my hands are cold...." John pressed around Sherlock's bump carefully and was careful not to expose too much of Sherlock's groin as he laid a tape measure lengthways and measured all the way down to the bottom of the bump. "You're feeling plenty of kicks and movements, yeah?"__  
Sherlock shifted his body a little and John removed his hands, recognising the small signs that the Omega was too tense to be comfortable with even a professional physical touch.  
"After I eat something sugary or drink anything cold," Sherlock said. "Neep moves a lot then."  
"Moving throughout the day?" John checked again.  
"He is," Sherlock said. "If I play music he kicks all the time."  
John smiled. "Budding classical musician?"  
"He likes Alan's music too," Sherlock said. " But It'd be nice if he wanted to learn violin."  
John held the doppler to Sherlock's belly and the sound of the unborn babies fast heartbeat filled the room. "Babies all good," he said after a moment.... surprised to find he felt inexplicably sad.... "Heart rate is exactly what you'd expect." He took the sonic aid away and pulled down Sherlock's t shirt for him.... "I'm more worried about you. What's going on?"  
"I can't stop thinking," Sherlock said. "There are literally hundreds of scenarios for how today will go..... I've imagined them all. It's driving me crazy. I know I'm over thinking it but I can't stop doing it. I'm losing my mind."  
"You seem sane to me....It's a long time since you've seen Aleksander.... You don't know what to expect."  
" In court... He said he hates me," Sherlock said hopelessly.  
John felt like he was flailing in the dark, trying to find ways to help.... "He's five Sherlock, how tough a stance can he hold even if he thinks he doesn't want to be here... you can get around him." He watched Sherlock's long fingers twist together nervously.  
"He loves his Fader. He always did." The Omega didn't look up as he spoke.... "Charles is really good at getting inside your head and Aleksander's just a child."  
John tried again. "He remembered you Sherlock.... the stories.... your scent. Even though its been awhile.... He's your son. He'll work it out."  
"That's part of what I'm worried about," Sherlock said enigmatically.

____

"Tea? Kettle just boiled." Alan said as John came into the kitchen. The breakfast bowls were still unwashed on the table half full of cold porridge but he'd set the pan to soak in the sink. "Is Sherlock ok... and the baby?"  
"Yeah. Thanks." John's shirt sleeves were still rolled up. "It's nerves.... you were spot on there. No signs of early contractions or the waters breaking.... He's worried himself sick , literally. We ran through some calming breathing exercises. He's giving them a try."  
Alan's still looked stressed.  
"He'll be ok," John fell back on his professional role, suddenly reminded that the tired looking man in front of him was the same as any other expectant dad...worried about his lover and his unborn child. "The baby's heart rate is good.... still small for dates but Sherlock says it's very active?"  
"Kicks seven bells out of him most nights." Alan said. "Just as he is trying to get off to sleep, the baby wakes up...." he took a mouthful of tea. "Lars is checking the bump weekly. He said summat last week about injections to help the lungs and some other thing he wants to start for Sherlock. That's meant to happen this week sometime.... The bloody name began with P.... Pes something " he was openly frustrated that he couldn't recall what it was.  
"Pessaries?" John took an educated guess. Lars must be concerned the cervix was ripening.  
"Aye, that's it. You think that's the right way to go? Sherlock wasn't too keen."  
John was surprised to be asked for his opinion.... He wondered if Alan knew what a pessary was or where it had to go. Sherlock undoubtedly did which would explain his lack of enthusiasm for the idea... "Yeah, I do. I'd have recommended both things... to be on the safe side."  
Alan nodded. "Ok then...."  
John hesitated.... "Has Lars talked to you both about the possibilty of an early birth....?"  
Riddick's eyes came up to his fast.... "Sherlock's the stitch in, still.... inside him."  
"I'm sure Lars'll talk to you about removing it at some stage....With a history of premature birth it's probably best to be prepared... " John said .....

"Prepared for what?" Sherlock's voice came from behind John.  
"You should still be laying down, I said at least half an hour of calm relaxed breathing." John said firmly.  
"If trying to be calm is stressing me then whats the point of trying to be calm?" Sherlock complained with his usual torturous logic. He looked from Alan to John with overly bright eyes.... "Why are you in here chatting as though you like each other? It's bizarre."  
"John was just saying Mrs Hudson is going to bring up some sandwiches.... case Aleksander's hungry while he's here...." Alan gave answering the question a wide berth.... Sherlock had enough to fret about today as it was.  
Sherlock looked at John.....  
"She was icing animal biscuits when I called down last night. Blue elephants, red lions...." John said. It was true , she had been.  
"Oh.... She didn't say. That's nice..." Sherlock said, he was poking the congealed porridge in its bowl with the spoon repeatedly.....  
"I can fix you some toast?" Alan offered. "If you think you'll keep it down?"  
Sherlock shook his head. He looked awkwardly at John then back down at the table; long finger tracing the edge of the table mat , before he looked up at Alan..... pink and embarassed..... "Will you do that thing you do again.... My neck....? " he asked.  
"Course I will." Alan said. That'd be the second time today.

John wasn't trying to spy but with the couch in his line of sight he could'nt exactly help seeing..... There was nowhere else to go unless he walked right past them.  
Sherlock had taken off his baggy sweater and sat himself on the couch, which was now facing the window, head down submissively.  
The bite was huge....worse than when John had first seen it all those years ago.  
The skin over the fine bones at the nape of Sherlock's neck had been torn and broken over and over again.  
Surrounding the bite John could see what looked like random teeth marks that covered Sherlock's shoulders.... each one had broken the skin when it was new. The red rawness might be gone but the wounded pink of each scar line was punctured with a damaged irreparable white depression where Charles had bitten down then pulled his head back.....  
The soft murmured words between Sherlock and Riddick were almost inaudible but the loose, relaxed slump of Sherlock's body wasn't hidden nor was the sensual dedicated focus of Riddick's attention..... the bond bite skin looked oiled, slick under Alan's circling thumbs and supple under the sliding fingers.....  
John had never thought he could want to touch Sherlock there...he realised only now that he did.... He didn't like the realisation.  
Instead of watching as Sherlock lifted a hand and slid it round Alan's neck and Riddick lowered his head to kiss Sherlock on the delicate nape of his neck; John dragged his eyes away, gathered up the dirty bowls and washed up , scouring the pan over and over until the sponge was in pieces.....

Aleksander had told the new maid ten times already but she was pretending not to understand him. "I need to see Fader," he said again. She gave him a blank look and carried on polishing his shoes.  
When the door opened a few minutes after that Aleksander looked up expecting to see Fader, only to see Alexei there instead.  
"Is the child ready?" Alexei spoke to the maid.  
"Yes, Sir. I only have to get his coat." She answered.  
"Hurry up." Alexei lifted a silver framed photo of Charles alongside his son and looked at it before placing it back. "She is slow is she not?" he said to Aleksander before the unfortunate woman had even left the room.  
"She's stupid. Maids are always stupid," Aleksander said. "Where's Fader?"  
"I am here to take you in his place," Adeyev said. "He is too busy for you this morning."  
"I don't want to go..." Aleksander was worried. "I don't want to go if it makes Fader cross with me!"  
Alexei looked at the child. "You should have thought of that before you spoke to the Legate, мальчик," he said. "Once the Court has ruled it is not for you to decide. You must go and you must live with the consequences of going." He smiled, amused by the lack of comprehension on the child's young face. 

 

Sasha was stood waiting, the child's hot, clammy hand holding his. "The car will be here in a moment."  
Aleksander fidgeted..... the collar on his red shirt was buttoned all the way to the very top and the navy blue striped jumper over it was itchy.....  
"Try to stand still....are you a dog with fleas, that you must wriggle all the time?" Sasha said, keeping his voice down so that what he said would go unheard by anyone else. He didn't want to be stood here with this Alpha child....  
"I'm not a dog and I don't have fleas!" Aleksander protested.  
"Then don't fidget and itch as though you do!" Sasha repeated. "If they suspect you have a rash perhaps you will not be allowed to go on a visit."  
"I told you, I don't have a rash .... or fleas! I'm itchy because this sweater is scratchy. I don't like it!" Aleksander said loudly. Too loudly.  
"Ssh... Stop.... Don't be such a cry baby," Sasha said as he saw Alexei's head turn. The child had gone a flustered, upset pink..... "I'm only teasing .... of course you don't have fleas..." At the sound of Alexei's footsteps upon the marble floor he fell silent...  
"Sasha .... Sasha .... did I say you could speak to the child?" Alexei's amused voice was full of a delighted spite. "If he has annoyed you Aleksander then feel free to slap his face.... I can ask him to kneel so you can easily reach."  
Aleksander stayed very still.... then shook his head once. Fast.  
"No?" Alexei checked, bending down to see the child's face as he stood holding Sasha's hand.... "Are you sure?"  
"I don't want to," Aleksander said, his young voice clear in the huge space of the marbled lobby.  
Alexei smiled at him and stood up..... " Sasha is not your equal. No Omega is. Never allow them to act as though they are," he said pleasantly to the child. "Your Fader has taught you that lesson, I am certain."  
An immaculate silver Rolls Royce drew up in front of the doors and the body guard stepped forward.....  
As the car stopped Aleksander let go of Sasha's hand excitedly and Alexei gestured with a brusque movement of his head to ensure the bodyguard followed and kept close to the child. Sasha went to follow behind the child and Alexei's hand flashed out , fingers and thumb gripping the back of his Omega's neck over the bond bite hard, with so much pressure that Sasha stopped dead in agony and hunched up his shoulders against it.  
"Don't think me a fool, Sasha. My eye is always on you, faded bitch." Alexei said. 

 

Mycroft glanced at his watch....  
Sherlock's face was buried against Alan's chest.... Alan's arms locking him in close.  
"We can allow some time for traffic...." Mycroft was careful to phrase the reminder gently. It seemed kinder than saying that Alan had to go or that Sherlock had to let him leave.....  
"Sherlock... You can do this. You can...." Alan had said it over and over. "You're more stubborn than any of them know.... You told me to go fuck myself enough times even at Apple Dore...."  
The sound Sherlock made was brittle and desperate, nothing like a laugh. Mycroft could see his grip round Alan's body tighten.... and deliberately looked away from his brother's raw need for the Alpha to stay.  
"C'mon...you have to let me go...." When Sherlock didn't Mycroft saw how Alan broke the Omega's tenacious grasp with a step back and hands that held Sherlock still and in place.... "Good lad," he said gruffly, uncontrollable emotion distorting his familiar voice and turning strode straight to the door and ran straight backed down the stairs without looking back.....

"Sherlock...?" Mycroft began a sentence he had no idea how to continue .... Appalled by what he'd just witnessed.... uncertain what more he should say.... hating to see the naked emotion in Sherlock's face.....  
Sherlock swiped at his eyes furiously....  
"I thought Alan may appreciate walking in the Palace Gardens. He can be without surveillance there.... Her Majesty was most generous in giving her agreement, since she will be at Windsor...." Mycroft instinctively felt it would help Sherlock to know where Riddick would be. "The grounds may be in the midst of a city but you would never know so; they feel entirely rural."  
"Don't leave him on his own unless he says he wants to be." Sherlock said.  
Mycroft felt the familiar twisting of conflicted concern, he'd planned on remaining just around the corner from Baker Street.... "It'll be completely safe, Sherlock."  
"I know.... but he might want someone to talk to, " Sherlock said unexpectedly. "Just because he goes quiet doesn't mean he wants to be that way."  
"Then I shall do my utmost to fill the void," Mycroft said, knowing that was what Sherlock needed to hear. He'd simply have to monitor Sherlock's safety from a distance. "Though I shall prove a poor substitute for you, I suspect."

Aleksander stared out the car window at a sign saying SPEEDY'S SANDWICH BAR AND CAFE....  
"Here?" Alexei sounded surprised as he spoke to the chaffeur. "A sandwich shop for tourists?"  
"The black front door to the left, Sir. 221B Baker Street." The man answered.  
"One of the railings is broken... it's got a top but no bottom.... and the door knocker isn't straight. I think its going to fall off..." Aleksander said observantly.  
Sasha looked up at the upstairs windows, with their ornamental metal work, from behind the tinted anonymous windows of the car.... an Alpha with short fair hair was looking down at the car. 

"They're here...." John said and the pensive, sound of the violin coming from behind him stopped abruptly as Sherlock's hands froze. "The cars outside."  
"Can you see Aleksander?"  
"Nobody got out yet," John said. "But it's Adeyev's car." He turned round to check how Sherlock was doing ..... the Omega stared back at him with dark anxious eyes. "You ok, Sherlock?"  
A loud imperious series of knocks at the front door echoed through the ominous silence.  
"I'll go down and bring them up," John said. His phone alerted him he'd just been sent a text but he ignored it; in a hurry.

There were three people stood in the dark hallway instead of two. Alexei Adeyev in an immaculate dark navy suit and stood behind him, holding Sherlock's child, an Elite Omega with hair so fair it was almost white and dark liquid eyes. It was a striking combination and gave him an almost sepia beauty like nothing John had ever seen before.  
"The child refused to come in without Sasha," Adeyev spoke with a dismissive nonchalance. It was an outright lie but that never troubled him.  
John hadn't expected an extra person. "Sasha who?" he asked, very aware of Aleksander hearing everything he said.  
"My Omega." Adeyev sounded bored. Behind him , Sasha hefted the surprisingly heavy child a little higher and held onto him, as the boy tried to slide down .  
John looked at the soft, innocent face of Sherlock's child , watching them all, soaking in everything. He had to make a decision and he had to make it now. Either he asked all three of them up or he didn't.... "Hello," he said to Aleksander, with a wide friendly smile."My names John. I'm friends with your Mummy. He's upstairs.... Shall we go on up and find him....?"  
The child stared wordlessly back. The analytical expression on his face reminded John of Mycroft.

There wasn't time to warn Sherlock that Adeyev had bought along his Omega.... but as John reached the half landing he heard Sherlock's phone signal the arrival of a text from Mycroft and as he came into the room he saw Sherlock slip it into his pocket.  
Nevertheless even though Mycroft had warned him via text, pain was clear on Sherlock's face as he looked for his son and found him in the arms of another Elite Omega.  
Adeyev smiled. John was begining to get the measure of the man fast. He'd done this deliberately to distress Sherlock which meant that Magnussen had agreed to it, of that John was sure.  
Sherlock stood still and straight backed...inside all he saw for one nauseating second was the study....  
Adeyev's eyes swept the room with derision before he took a step forward towards Sherlock.  
"That's close enough," John said and stopped him in his tracks.  
Adeyev sneered incredulously. "What is it you think I will do? Pin him against the floor and run my hands inside his clothes in front of the boy?"  
Sherlock's face drained of what little colour remained in it as John watched.  
"Who knows what you're capable of. I don't care to find out." John said tightly, anger coiled in his belly like a snake ready to strike. "You don't get to go any further into Sherlock's home than he says you can go."

Adeyev laughed. "Sherlock.... Sherlock.... Are you so timid you forego the basic courtesies due from Omega to Alpha taught you by your Nanny?"  
Sherlock stared back at him, pale faced and stubbornly fragile and said nothing.... his haunted, hungry eyes went back to his son in the arms of another Elite Omega. "Hello, Sasha," he said, ignoring Alexei.  
"You do not have my permission to reply," Alexei warned his Omega, all sense of amusement gone from his face at the open insult as he was ignored.  
Sherlock stayed where he was, looking only at Sasha and the way he had his arms locked round Aleksander. "Sasha?" he said, uncertain and almost pleading.  
Sasha broke the tension by stepping forward and placing Aleksander down to stand on his own feet. "You are heavy," Sasha said to Aleksander by way of excuse and explanation and for the first time John heard the unusual high alto of his voice and saw the look of pure seething spite Adeyev gave the Omega.  
Sasha's shoulders moved in a small apologetic shrug as though to say, what matter?

Sherlock's anxious focus shot to the child, now he could see him clearly for the first time. John heard the sudden intake of breath he took..... and watched Sherlock come closer and closer, drawn to his son despite Adeyev's proximity; crouching down to look at the child face to face.... "Hello Aleksander," he said. "Do you remember me?"  
The child gave a stilted nod. Staring wide eyed at this new shaven headed version of his mother.  
"You grew. Last time I saw you you were only so big," Sherlock said and held out one hand to show a lower height.  
"I'm five now," Alexander's clear voice was heard for the first time. "You forgot my birthday and Christmas. You forgot Easter eggs as well!"  
"I'm very sorry," Sherlock said, even though he knew he'd forgotten nothing and everything he'd sent had simply never been given. "I wont let that happen ever again."  
"You forgot me!" The child said in an accusatory rush of words.  
"No!" Sherlock said very fast. " I never did that. Not ever. I went away but I never forgot you, I missed you all the time."  
Alexei made a low scoffing sound and John wished he could punch him.

"Where you live is very small rooms," Aleksander said. "And it's not tidy, don't you have a maid ?"  
Sherlock said, "No, I just have me. It's messy because I'm not very good at cleaning. I'm not very good at being tidy."  
Aleksander stared round the cluttered room with round eyes. "Why do you have a bat inside a picture?"  
"It was mine when I lived at home, My brother, Mycroft, bought it for me." Sherlock wasn't sure how much infomation Aleksander wanted to know.  
"Can I see it?" Aleksander said.  
Sherlock put one hand on the couch to steady himself, he was feeling dizzy. John saw Adeyev's eyes go straight to the visible newly red slashed scaring on Sherlock's thin wrist.... "Of course you can."  
"What's its name?" Aleksander asked randomly.  
"Boris," Sherlock said, making it up on the spot. "Boris the Bat....We can get a screwdriver and open the display case if you like ? Then you can touch its wings."  
Aleksander hesitated.... Torn between loyalties, knowing his Fader wouldn't want him to forgive Sherlock.  
"It's ok if you don't want too," Sherlock said and John could hear the uncertain almost fearful need in his voice.  
Aleksander's thumb was in his mouth.  
"I don't know about you Aleksander, but when I come in I like to take my coat off and then have some biscuits and something to drink," John said, trying to find some way to help Sherlock settle the child in. "We've got some animal biscuits if you're hungry."  
"I like biscuith," Aleksander said indistinctly, words distorted around the thumb still in his mouth.

"Tea?" John forced himself to ask Adeyev, aiming to pull the Alpha's focus away from Sherlock who had unbuttoning his son's blue duffle coat carefully before helping remove his itchy woollen sweater .  
Adeyev pulled out a chair at the table.... picked up one of Martha's lovingly handmade animal biscuits with their bright primary icing and looked at it with a nasty amusement before dropping it carelessly back onto the plate where it broke...."Sit down cyka блять," he told Sasha in his native Russian.  
John didn't react though he knew what the words meant, having spent weeks Googling swear words of the world one boring summers day , many years ago. He knew his jaw had set and had to remind himself.... now was not the time.... "The biscuits are for Aleksander," he said and offered the plate to Sasha before moving them away.  
"Sherlock do you want tea, I'm making some?" he called through to the sitting room.  
"Yes please John," Sherlock called back. "Aleksander says he likes milk with biscuits."  
Sasha sat very still and listened to the true equality and friendship he could hear beneath the easy, everyday interaction. He had never heard an Alpha speak like that to an Omega before....

Aleksander moved away as soon as his coat was hung up.... wandering over to the glass case with the stuffed bat and hunkering down to see it. "What's the Ep...pole...late...ted Bat?" he asked, reading the name wrongly.  
Sherlock didn't correct him but repeated the name the right way when it came to his turn to answer. " The Epauleted Bat....It's a made up name.. There are no real life bats called that....but there are over 1,200 different species of bats in the world."  
"What's a sp.... a species?" Aleksander said, struggling with the unfamiliar word.  
Sherlock remembered how Aleksander had talked about dog breeds with the Legate and used it to simplify his answer..... "It's a bit like dog breeds, there are lots of different breeds of dogs and they can look very different but they are all dogs."  
"Like sausage dogs," Aleksander said.  
Sherlock smiled, desperate to touch his son but knowing it was too soon. "Yes, like sausage dogs," he agreed.  
"it's dead but it doesn't look dead." Aleksander said.  
"It's been stuffed by somebody called a taxidermist," Sherlock explained.  
"But it's still dead?" Aleksander double checked.  
"Yes.... it's still very dead." Sherlock said.  
"And it can't come back to life ever?"  
"No , it can't do that." Sherlock saw the tiny telltale marks of tiredness under his son's eyes.... "Shall we get a screwdriver and open the box? Then you can see it better and touch it if you like?"  
Aleksander's thumb had crept back up into his mouth but he nodded.

John was watching Sherlock as he bought in the tray with some biscuits , tea and a glass of milk for Aleksander and set it on the coffee table. Instead of opening the back of the old Victorian display case himself Sherlock was allowing Aleksander to use the screwdriver too.... letting him learn by trying.  
The child's short chubby finger touched the bat wing very gently.... "It feels like paper skin" John heard him say.  
Sherlock's head was close to his son's. "It's called a patterglum and it's a membrane, which is super thin skin so that was a very clever thing to say." The praise won him a smile.

The child thought. "Is the bat your most special thing you own, like you are to Fader?"  
Sherlock couldn't quite control the intake of breath he took, " No.... the most special things I own are all things not people," he said. "I have special people in my life but I don't own them. You don't need to own family or friends.... or people who love you."  
The child frowned. "But Fader owns you." It wasn't a question, it was an unquestioned fact.  
Sherlock stayed very still, running through answers inside his head at top speed, none of which he could say aloud..... "A bond is different. It's hard to explain how...."  
"One day I'll own all Fader's best things and that's you," the child had a sure tone to his voice. "I'm going to live in a castle.... You can go out in the garden with me. I won't make you stay inside, that's no fun. You can watch me on the climbing frame...."  
Sherlock swallowed to clear the tight constrictive feeling of dread from his throat. "I like living here," he said gently.  
Aleksander frowned.... "Well you can't stay here forever and ever because you have to come home..... Fader made a new room."  
Shit.... shit.... shit....! A room. A new room?  
But he's only a child.... what can he know? He could be wrong.  
Or he could be right. There could be a room.  
Shit!  
Sherlock stood up a little too quickly and felt a sharp pulling pain around his womb.... "Come and choose a biscuit animal," he said, suddenly grateful his stomach was empty.

"Why do you have that?" Aleksander wasn't sure what it was but he wanted to know why it was there on the kitchen worktop.  
"It's a microscope, I use it to look at things and see them better than I can with just my eyes." Sherlock kept the explanation basic as he lifted Aleksander onto a high stool.  
"I want to see." Aleksander demanded.  
"Ok... This little glass square is called a slide.... you put whatever you want to look at on and you place it under here...and look through here...."  
"I want to try!" Aleksander said again.... louder and more bossy.  
Flustered Sherlock reached for a slide fast and slid it in, anxiety rising as Aleksander complained....." I'm showing you....You look through here.... and move this knob here round slowly....when you see something move even more slowly.... Can you see anything yet?"  
" Yes.... I can see!..... I want to see again!" Aleksander was excited.  
Sherlock took out the slide and set it down, reaching for another to show Aleksander.  
"What is that you're showing the child?" Adeyev asked.  
Sherlock looked down at the words on the slide and didn't answer..... He reckoned without Aleksander's curiosity....  
"What's SPERM?" The child's crystal clear voice said helpfully, picking up the cover slip from just behind the microscope and reading the writing upon it aloud into a horrified silence.  
"Let's try this one instead," Sherlock snatched it away and, short of places to remove it from sight, stuffed it into the drawer with the cutlery.

"That'll be one of my Doctor samples." John lied, furious with Sherlock "I work from here sometimes.... That's right isn't it, Sherlock?"  
"Totally." Sherlock said, all too aware of the sheer astonishment on Alexei and Sasha's faces! . Distract. Distract ..... Oh God!.... "John used to be a Doctor, in the Army....An Army Doctor.... He's a hospital doctor now... Doctors spend a lot of time looking at gross things.... it's why nobody dates him," he heard himself say for the second time that day.....  
Aleksander giggled.  
"You total tosser!" John mouthed the words vehemently at Sherlock without making a sound.  
At the table Alexei began to laugh, genuinely amused for the first time. "Sherlock.... Tell me.... Was Charles aware what a freak you are beneath the beauty?"  
John's face changed. He placed both hands over Aleksander's ears and kept them there as the child looked up..... "If you ever call Sherlock that again, I'll open the front door and kick your sorry arse out into the street!" Before a livid looking Adeyev could answer John took his hands away from the child's ears with a triumphant flourish.  
Unable to say anything now the child would hear him, Alexei sat impotently at the table as Sasha pinched himself hard, fingers digging into the tender skin over his ribcage to be sure he hid the dangerous desire to laugh at his Alpha, that he knew if seen would end in his death

 

"What the fuck? Sperm, Sherlock? Sodding sperm!" John hissed at Sherlock as they set out one of Mycroft's board games.  
"Experiment," Sherlock knew the explanation fell short.  
John gave him his best 'are you fucking kidding me' look.  
"Take the child to wash his hands Sasha," Adeyev said. "No more microscope, Aleksander."  
"But it's interesting.... I don't need to wash my hands!" Aleksander protested.  
Sasha had stood up as ordered and was waiting.  
" I'm not dirty! I want to see more things!" Aleksander protested, whiney and difficult.  
"Enough!" Alexei said in a sudden spike of short temper. "Do as you are told or the visit will end and we will leave!"  
John saw Sherlock flinch minutely as though he'd been the one shouted at, it reminded him of Sherlock's brutal past.... he laid a hand on the Omega's thin arm for a second to reassure him and when Sherlock's guilty nervous eyes looked up, John was sure to smile. 

The bathroom was tiny.  
There were two toothbrushes sharing one mug and two bathtowels hanging together on the towel rail.  
"Wash your hands....You've eaten biscuits. Nobody likes a child with sticky fingers." Sasha said.  
"I don't have sticky fingers!" Aleksander said, dropping the bar of soap into the sink and chasing it about before getting hold of it again in both small dimpled hands.  
"You're a child.... all children are sticky," Sasha said with feeling. There was a second door leading into the bathroom.... while the child was making soapy suds under the water he reached for the handle....  
A slept in double bed that hadn't been made .  
Two sets of pillows, so close together the edges overlapped.  
Two sets of pj bottoms tangled together on the floor near the door, an empty, lidless bottle of massage oil on top of them .  
In the middle of the bed lay a V shaped pregnancy pillow.... Sasha had used one himself , he recognised it at once....  
"What are you doing?" Aleksander asked.  
Sasha closed the door. "Nothing. Let's go find Sherlock."

The game involved hanging monkeys from a tree.  
John played it too, worried that if he left Sherlock in charge something else inappropiate could happen. Sperm , for God's sake.... a bodily fluid... what the Hell was Sherlock thinking leaving that around in a experiment.  
Sherlock knew that was what John was thinking.....  
He couldn't even explain.  
If he said he was testing Alan's sperm behind his back because every time he ever mentioned having another baby at some stage then Alan got this look on his face, like the ground had given way around him; then John was bound to get all ethical about it and say he should'nt.  
He had no idea what to do..... but he definately knew he could'nt say anything to anyone.  
Alan could never find out that he knew.

"Why isn't Sherlock playing?" Aleksander asked John.  
John had been asking that question himself. "Sherlock....you ok there?" he said and just like that Sherlock's guilty eyes snapped up to his.  
"I'm fine," the Omega lied.  
"You didn't hang a monkey up by the tail," Aleksander said. "It's your turn."  
Sherlock chose a yellow monkey and hung it carefully onto another yellow monkeys tail.... no sooner had he moved his hand away than everything fell down with a little plastic crash.  
"You lose! Alphas win!" Aleksander said and clapped his hands.

There was half an hour left.... then Aleksander would be gone until next time.  
Adeyev had already looked at his watch twice.  
Sherlock felt sick just thinking about watching Aleksander leave.  
The time had gone so fast.  
The child was trying to fit every piece of the game back into the box.... Sherlock watched him try again and again, refusing to give up until he found the right way.  
John helped him put the game back on the shelf. "Now... we'll keep this here until you come next time," John was saying.  
Sherlock lowered his head and swiped at his eyes when nobody was looking.... when he raised his head Aleksander was looking right at him, stood in front of his knees.  
"I want my cuddle now," the child said.

He was a lot heavier than Sherlock remembered but the soft roundness of Aleksander's hot face pressed into his chest was the exact same.....  
Against him Sherlock could feel every single breath Aleksander took.  
In his arms his bigger, older son was terrifyingly fragile. Solidly real and impossibly loveable.  
"Your tummy got fat." Aleksander's muffled voice said.  
"I ate too many biscuits," Sherlock lied. He ran one golden strand of his son's hair through his finger tips.. He felt Aleksander's arms tighten round him squeezing surprisingly hard and Neep gave a series of kicks into his spine, probably protesting about being squashed.  
Sherlock locked both arms round Aleksander and buried his face in the child's hair.... "I love you.... I love you... I love you, Aleksander." he whispered over and over again. _Please believe it _....  
It was at that precise moment that Aleksander bit him!__


	74. Like An Egg Yolk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries his best to help mend the damaged child inside his son....
> 
> There are confrontations and revelations.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Danish means .... I feel like an egg yolk. I've played around with the meaning as when Danes use it they mean they feel comfortable and secure , whereas Sherlock uses it differently....
> 
> Blue the track is The Days by Patrick Wolf.

John was fetching Alexander's coat and shoes from just outside the front door when Sherlock's inarticulate exclamation stopped him in his tracks and bought him straight back into the room.....  
"Ow!" There was pain in Sherlock's voice.  
Time hung for a split second of bemused blankness.... as John and Alexei stared at Sherlock who had moved the child off his lap onto the couch seat in one swift move and was hunched over, hand on his own chest.... then awareness and a startled realisation came crashing in.  
It was Alexei who reacted first, snatching the child away from the Omega by one arm with a stern look on his face. "What have you done!".... one shake and the child was dangling in Alexei's grasp, like a scruffed kitten ...

There was a scattered injection of Russian from Sasha as Sherlock shot to his feet and reached for his son, grimacing as he did so, as though in doing so he'd pulled a muscle..... "Don't! Alexei!"  
"Never do that!" Ignoring Sherlock, Alexei span Aleksander around out of the Omega's reach, hauled Aleksander awkwardly forward and bending slapped the child across the buttocks in a rapid flurry of fast blows .... "Never _ever _do that!" The harshness in his aristocratic voice made it sound like a bark. As soon as the blows were struck he released the child who fell down onto his backside with a bump.__  
Aleksander sucked in an indignant lungful of air and screamed.  
Sherlock shot forward getting in between his son and Alexei and John came canoning in, locked his hands round the Russian Alpha's upper arms and drove him backwards, like a rugby scrum machine, all the way to the wall, before he could lift a hand to Sherlock.....

__

Sherlock went down onto both knees and pulled Aleksander back into his arms.... "It's alright.... it's alright.... I'm here.... "  
"Oh but this is priceless, Sherlock" Alexei crowed, "You actually love the child.... Charles son."  
Sherlock's shoulders hunched as though Alexei had landed a blow.  
John used the strength of his whole body to push Adeyev back against the wall. The man wasn't fighting back but nor was he passively unresisting and John was taking no chances. The Russian Alpha was stronger than he looked, John could feel deceptively, wiry muscle underneath the suit.  
"It's alright.... It's ok.... " Sherlock winced as the high pitched scream sounded next to his ear.....  
Aleksander sucked in another huge sobbing lungful of air....  
"Sssh .... ssshhh.... Shhh it's ok.... it's ok....." Sherlock rocked his body backwards and forwards, moving the child's body with his.... "Sssshhhh..... sssshhh.....There.... Sshhhh.... Don't cry.... "  
Adeyev stared past John at the Omega, head tilted back and a strangely aroused expression on his face..... and began to laugh.  
John tightened his grip on Alexei's biceps, hauled him away from the wall a small distance and banged him back against it harder to shut the man up; when it didn't work he did it once more but nothing stopped the man laughing as the sounds of his vindictive amusement and Aleksander screeching filled the small room.....

Aleksander had finally stopped screaming.  
Sherlock could hear him hiccuppping and sobbing against his throat..... pressured by the hot, heavy weight of the child on top of the bump Neep was kicking furiously, tiny legs lashing out in a staccato of motion.....  
"Take your hands off me, common dog," Alexei's voice had real bite behind it suddenly.  
John leant more of his body weight in to prove a point.... " Yeah? I don't think so... You hit a child...."  
"The child transgressed, I corrected his behaviour.... I will end your career if you do not unhand me ....." The threat wasn't idly made nor was it agressively prounounced. The absolute certainty made it effective.  
"Let him go, John." John could hear the worry in Sherlock's voice.  
"Well?" Alexei demanded.  
"John! Let him go!" Sherlock said again.  
"Stay back," John gave a final warning but there was nothing he could counter with and he knew it.  
"You think I'd discipline the boy without Charles consent to do so?" Alexei raised both hands and broke John's grasp on him.... "I spanked the child's bottom ... nothing more..... of course the mother will react. You are a Doctor, concern yourself with Sherlock's wound," he said. He sounded bored already now the drama was over...

"I'm fine, John," Sherlock said as John knew he would. He was pale and his eyes were an intense indigo blue.  
"I'll be the judge of that," John said, crouching down beside him. He could hear Aleksander sniffing tearfully against Sherlock. "He bit you?"  
"He didn't mean too," Sherlock was defensively maternal.  
"I know but it's a human bite. I'll need to clean it and dress it if it broke the skin," John kept calm , very aware of the child.... "Aleksander....? I need to take a quick look at Sherlock now.... You remember, I'm a Doctor, yeah? I just want to make sure Sherlock's ok then he'll come right back to you, okay?"  
"No..... he has to stay here!" Aleksander was clinging on for his life.  
No , not ok clearly..... "I know you didn't mean to bite," John tried again....  
Aleksander hugged harder and gave a very definate head shake.  
Sherlock lowered his head over the child and spoke in Danish.... "Jeg har det som blomen i et aeg!"  
John had no idea what it meant but all of a sudden the child was giggling!

John stacked up the pillows from both sides on the bed and let Sherlock rest back against them. He was opening the first aid kit when he saw Sherlock surreptiously rearrange the pillows so that the ones from Riddick's side of the double bed were uppermost.  
From the sitting room Alexei's voice speaking to Aleksander was audibly stern. "Hurry up, John. I can't see what's going on in there!" Sherlock complained anxiously.  
Sherlock took off his baggy sweater readily enough but baulked at removing the huge t-shirt he was wearing that clearly belonged to Riddick.... John was forced to pull it up to get at the bite site on Sherlock's third rib , which was less than ideal.... "I can't clean this without getting the t-shirt wet...."  
"It's fine, John." Sherlock said quietly, he still didn't offer to remove it, craving the familiar security of Alan's scent.  
The bite had punctured the skin, not as badly as an adult Alpha male would have done but, even in a child, the Elite canine teeth were sharper.... John used isotonic sodium chloride to irrigate the wound throughly using a syringe; being careful not to damage the surrounding tissues. The t-shirt began to soak up the liquid and turn dark and sodden.  
"I need to debride the blood clot...." John heard the hiss of pain Sherlock gave.... "and the edges here. Sorry.... That's looking good now...." Blood was oozing darkly round the puncture wounds again as John applied a sterile dressing and taped it down...." I"ll have to prescribe some antibiotics. Better safe than sorry."  
"He's a child.... Surely it's ok?" Being pregnant Sherlock was keen to avoid medication.  
"Yeah, you think?..... It's not. He's a child but a human mouth is full of nasty bacteria.... Just take the tablets ok?"

There was a knock at the closed bedroom door and both John and Sherlock froze.... Sherlock made a snatch for the duvet and hauled it over himself and Neep.  
"Yeah, nearly finished in here.... Be right out!" John called out.  
Sasha's voice spoke from just outside the door.... "Aleksander wants to come in and see Sherlock...." He kept hold of the child's small hand and one shoulder firmly.  
"Come in," Sherlock said.  
Sasha stayed back in the doorway.... steering Aleksander inside with a hand on his shoulder without a word. Sherlock didn't need to be told to deduce that meant Alexei was stood behind his Omega , further along the hallway..... Sasha's studied blankness spoke volumes.  
Aleksander was ashamed and red eyed, when he saw the square taped bandage on Sherlock's chest he looked miserable and flustered, on the verge of more guilty tears.  
Sherlock stole words he'd heard Alan say literally hundreds of times at Apple Dore since those early days when Sherlock had raged against the unfairness and restrictions of it all by trashing his room or throwing a plate full of dinner against the wall..... "It's ok. It's alright.... I'm not angry.."  
Aleksander ran across the carpet and went straight for the bed with the unerring homing instinct of any small child for its mother....  
John waited expecting to hear the child say he was sorry but he didn't....  
"Are you still an egg?" Aleksander said instead, his clear voice muffled against Sherlock .  
John had'nt a clue why the child would ask Sherlock that.  
"A little like one with a cracked shell. You did'nt mean to hurt me though, did you?" Sherlock said.  
Aleksander shook his head fiercely.  
" I knew that...." Sherlock said kindly and gave his son a kiss. 

Aleksander touched the white dressing taped over the bite he'd given Shelock as carefully as he could. "Is it hurting?"  
Sherlock didn't avoid the truth.... "A bit... Being bitten hurts.... even if you're Omega .... "  
"I didn't mean it!" Aleksander jumped in to say that.  
"I know you didn't mean it.... I know that, " Sherlock's voice was gentle, "but I don't know why you did it.... and I'd like to know.... I promise I won't be cross...."  
"Because you're my mummy!" Aleksander rushed the explanation.  
"I'll always be that...." Sherlock was trying so hard to understand.  
Aleksander fell back on what he knew to be true.... "Fader bit you and that made you his.... same as writing his name on.... and.... you're _my _mummy. I want my name on you too...."__

John took a deep breath.... that was the most fucked up, entitled Elite Alpha logic he'd ever heard from a small child. He was genuinely taken aback.  
Sherlock didn't seem surprised at all but he glanced anxiously at John , concerned by the Alpha's reaction. When he was satisfied John had himself under control, he spoke to Aleksander; keeping his voice low and gentle. "That's how owning things works.... but I'm a person, not a thing.... and you don't need to do that, ever, because we already belong together. I'm your mummy and you're my son. That's not the same as a bond bite but in lots of ways its even better because it means I'll always be your mummy and love you; no matter what else changes, that can't stop being how I feel about you."  
"Like Fader loves you?" Aleksander said.  
John saw how Sherlock hesitated and looked unsettled and faintly sick before carrying on.  
" No.... love is nothing like that.... I love people for many reasons but none of them are because they bit me... Yes, I have a bond bite but that doesn't make me into a thing to be owned..." Sherlock stopped himself mid sentence and changed what he'd been about to say, painfully aware of the innocent naivety in the child's face. He began again... "Love isn't like that.... the feelings have to come from inside. You can't buy it or bite somebody to make them feel it .... they either do or they can't..... and I _do _Aleksander.... I love you.__  
Aleksander frowned. "But... you went away."  
Sherlock tried to mend the damage he knew leaving had done.... "I know I went away and I wasn't able to tell you that I was leaving before I had to go. I'm sorry, very sorry I had to do that.... I wasn't able to tell you where I was or that I missed you for a very long time.... Even when I lived in Apple Dore, I couldn't be with you every day like I should have been, showing you how much I love you; so I understand why maybe you'd feel like I don't.... but I do. I do very much..... I love you . That's _our _bond and it's deeper than any bite."__

"What are you doing?" Sasha asked uneasily as Alexei crossed to the bookcase and began pulling out paper work and white envelopes to read.  
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Alexei paused, gave a victorious smile.... He turned around the unopened envelopes in his hand so Sasha could see....  
Sasha had to come closer to read the top most envelope.....  
Mr Alan Riddick  
221b Baker Street.  
London NW1.  
He could do nothing as Alexei folded the letters and placed them into his suit pocket.

Greg was eating egg and chips in an old fashioned cafe in Soho that was one of his favourite haunts and talking about forensics with Anderson, amid a table of other off duty colleagues after a busy morning, when Mycroft appeared at the table dressed in one of his immaculate suits and standing out like a sore thumb.  
The heated debate died away as Alpha after Alpha noticed an Elite Alpha was there to see Greg.....  
"Gregory," Mycroft's accent was unmistakably Elite.  
"Mycroft? What's going on?" Greg pushed his chair back and stood up, it seemed easier to meet this unexpected situation on his feet.... as soon as he'd stood up he regretted it, as Anderson's eyes moved to him in open judgement of what Greg now realised mistakenly appeared to be a submissive gesture from Omega to a dominant Alpha. Shit!  
More curious eyes were moving Greg's way now, putting two and two together and coming up with five.... although he didn't mean to do it he felt his shoulders stiffen uneasy with the assumptions and categorisation he knew was taking place. Behind him somebody made a low comment and Greg saw Mycroft's mouth straighten almost unperceptively as he noted Greg's unease....  
When Mycroft spoke again his Elite demeanor and accent was more pronounced, as though daring anyone else to assume they knew why he was here, "Apologies for disturbing you Detective Inspector.... if we could speak privately concerning a security breach at Baker Street?"  
"Of course,"Greg said. Professionally helpful. Almost as though they only knew one another in a work context. He was tempted to give Mycroft a cheeky wink.

"I'll need you to come with me," Mycroft was calm but still there was an urgency in his tone. "While Sherlock and John were otherwise occupied, Alexei Adeyev has rifled through personal papers that I believe could prove Alan Riddick's main place of residence is, in fact, Baker Street.... I cannot set foot Baker Street while the child is there..... you, however can."

It wasn't until they were in the car and being driven away at speed that Greg abruptly connected the dots. How did Mycroft know what had happened.... " You've got hidden surveillance cameras in 221B?"  
"Of course," Mycroft said somewhat smugly.  
"Sherlock doesn't know does he?" Greg could'nt imagine Alan knew either, based on the number of times he'd had to wait outside the door while both Sherlock and Alan got their trousers on.  
"Sherlock's safety is my priority," Mycroft hoped Gregory could see why it was necessary. "No, Sherlock believes he removed them all.. whereas I had them reinstalled in less obvious locations."  
"Which rooms do you have cams in?" The fact that Sherlock and Alan had no idea they were being watched when they were at their most intimate didn't sit well with Greg. Talk about an intrusion of privacy!  
Mycroft resisted the urge to clear his throat, refusing to acknowledge his rising tension.... "Coverage is all inclusive.... "  
"In the bedroom? ..... Greg hoped not. That would be taking brotherly concern to a whole new level of weird.....  
"In my defence, I have ensured I never personally review the footage" Mycroft said awkwardly, "Initially I did so.... I did not expect them to be so.... active..... throughout the flat.... on several occasions." There was a strange mixture of embarrassment and perplexity in this voice.  
Greg almost laughed at Mycroft's fastidious disapproval when another thought struck him and all brevity died. The other day he'd forgotten an important file until Mycroft had mentioned it. At the time he'd thought it a happy coincidence like the time Mycroft had showed up with theatre tickets to a play Greg had been longing to see. Now however, it seemed less lucky and more potentially stalker.

Mycroft was watching him reach his erroneous conclusions.... "You're quite wrong Gregory." he said.  
Shit! You couldn't have a private thought around a Holmes.... Greg knew he was going to have to ask now or he'd never be able to cut his toenails sat on the couch at home again without wondering if he was really in the privacy of his own home.... "My house.... I want your word it's camera free and it stays camera free?"  
Mycroft lifted both eyebrows high.... "I'm a concerned, protective brother Gregory.... not a seedy peeping tom!"  
"Good because I'm not sure you're ready to see me reading the Sunday papers naked.....yet." Greg said.  
Mycroft's mouth twitched as though he was fighting to control it..... then there was a definate smirk. "You're assuming I don't read them naked myself," he said and it was Greg's turn to grin shamelessly .

Greg bounded up the stairs two at a time, calling out Sherlock's name when he was on the half landing as he always did to give the Omega warning he'd company heading in....  
This time things were a little different.... somebody announced he was there, before he could.  
"Sherlock.... there's a man at the door!" A light, Russian voice said and Greg found himself facing an Elite Omega with dark quick eyes, posh looking clothes in neutral shades and a heavy fall of platinum blond hair ....  
Sherlock stood up from where he'd been sat cross legged on the floor..... "Greg?.... What are you doing here?"  
"Sorry. I need some of the paperwork I left here," Greg lied, trusting that Sherlock would see he was lying right away.  
There was a troubled pucker between Sherlock's eyebrows..... "It's on the bookcase..... most of it.... " He looked sharply at Greg..... "This is Sasha... Sasha , this is Greg Lestrade, he's a detective inspector at NSY...."  
"A pleasure to meet you...." Sasha recovered almost seamlessly from the surprise of realising the solid looking, affable policeman stood in front of him was an Omega; .... and then it was Greg's turn for a shock introduction as he rounded the couch and almost knocked down a long line of green toy soldiers and the child hunkered down on the floor to set them up.....  
"Greg....this is my son Aleksander," Sherlock's smile was huge and full of pride, " Aleksander, this is my friend Greg.... Greg's a detective which means he arrests people who do bad things and break the law and makes sure they go to prison."  
The small child offering a formal handshake to Greg was blond and compact, with bright hair and intelligent blue eyes that reminded Greg instantly of Mycroft...  
"Hello," Aleksander's accent blended Danish and English.  
"Well.... well... if it isn't the freak Omega turned detective," Alexei's complacent drawl came from behind Greg and he turned to see Alexei, sat at the small kitchen table.... which meant Sasha was his castrated Omega.... that explained the high, light voice.....  
"What's a freak?" Alexander said but nobody answered.... "There's nobody bad here who needs to go to jail," Aleksander said next and Greg could hear Sherlock and Mycroft in the child's clever certainty that he was right.  
Greg wasn't as sure about that as the boy was.... "Luckily it's my day off. I just want a quick word with Sherlock.... your mum," Greg said.  
"Do you have a gun and handcuffs? I want to see," Aleksander asked, straight to the point... a mini Sherlock!  
"Here you go. Watch you don't pinch your skin though..." Greg said and handed his cuffs down to Aleksander. "Sorry I don't have a gun and even if I did they aren't for playing with."

Over by the bookcase, while Aleksander slid the cuffs over his socked ankles like manacles; Sherlock was pretending to help Greg search so they could talk in low whispers.....  
"Mycroft says Alexei stole papers from here while your back was turned," Greg had opened a crime folder and was pretending to leaf through the gory images.....  
"I think I put the other papers over here.," Sherlock said clearly as he started a pretend search..... "How does Mycroft know that?" he muttered.  
Greg saw the exact second Sherlock realised there were hidden cameras in his home and he'd had sex in front of them...  
"I am going to fucking kill my brother...." Sherlock hissed balefully.... "And then I'll resurrect him with a fiendishly clever chemical cocktail so Alan can kill him all over again..... and don't you dare say that's an overeaction just because you fancy him!"  
Greg had nothing to say to that. Personally he could see both sides had a valid point of view but then if the camera was spying on him he knew how little he'd like it! .  
"Shit... Alan's mail is missing! I put it here this morning!" Sherlock said.  
Sasha made sure to keep his head down, listening in without being seen to do so.... until there was a tap on his knee. He found himself staring right at Aleksander "Give me your hands I want to handcuff you...." the child ordered. Sasha shut his lips tightly to hide how much he hated being restrained and held out his hands....  
"Any idea what he took?" Greg made a show out of leafing through another folder.  
"I don't know. Letters. A bill from the funeral parlour," Sherlock was flustered. "God.... I don't know. Anything....it could be anything. All Alan's mail...." He looked sick with worry.  
"Leave him to me," Greg said quietly and then aloud he said. "Ok if I take these through to the kitchen, Sherlock?"  
"That's fine," Sherlock said aloud and turned around to see a reluctant Sasha was being handcuffed to the chair arm... " Aleksander, come and ask John if you can handcuff him instead. Sasha doesn't like that game."

Greg sat down at the table and opened the file.... pictures of the few items of clothing spilled out over the table and he saw Alexei look down, then straighten up and push back his chair. There was a strange expression on his face that Greg couldn't place, disgust and something else.....  
"Freak.... what kind of Omega spends his day around death?" Alexei said as he rose from the table. Alan had a bottle of rum on the kitchen worktop and Greg watched as Alexei poured himself a measure and drank it back in one hard gulp as he leant lazily against the worktop edge, facing Greg as he drank.  
"What kind of Alpha cuts another man's balls off?" Greg countered, keeping his voice down so John wouldn't hear.  
Alexei smiled.... "A hole suffices... Tell me why have you never bonded? Why remain unbred? Neither a real man nor a mother...."

Greg shut the folder, stood up and walked the few steps that bought him to stand before the Elite Alpha.... he knew by the way Alexei's fingers tightened upon the glass that the man disliked the uninvited closeness..... "Oh I'm a real man...." Greg said darkly.. "It's all rent boys for you is it? Younger the better, that's what I've heard.... A grown Omega too much for you to handle is he?" In his early days on the force Greg had worked vice, dressed to lure those who liked rough sex in public places. Now he fell back on what he'd learnt then about Elite Alpha who liked to 'slum it' with the working class, tilting his head deliberately to expose his throat.... "See anything you want?" Greg said .. .  
Alexei took another mouthful of rum.... Aroused despite himself by the sheer blatancy of the offer.... the novelty of the situation holding his vicarious interest in everything corrupt or immoral.  
Greg's brown eyes stayed on Alexei as he licked his lips, seeing how the Alpha followed the move despite himself...." Don't kid yourself, you're not my type," Greg said, cynically amused that Alexei could ever think he'd be interested. In one quick move he caught the bones of Alexei's wrist over the watch that probably cost as much as a car and squeezed.... hard and suddenly Greg had the stolen mail from Alexei's inner pocket and had stepped back before the Alpha made a grab for it , Greg said. "This find its way into your pocket by mistake did it? Consider yourself lucky nobody is pressing charges for theft."  
"You'll pay for that!" Alexei said furiously .

It was time to leave.  
You'd have thought the world was ending.  
"You're coming back. I promise...." Sherlock was doing his best to reassure a crying Aleksander but was clearly struggling and overwhelmed as his own grief at seeing his son leave his life again affected him .  
"No. No . No...."  
Sasha was trying to take the child from Sherlock's arms but the child clung like a monkey, arms and legs wrapped round.  
John crouched down and tried to help.... "Remember we've kept the games here for you.... for when you come again?"  
Aleksander's headshake was almost frantic as he burrowed into Sherlock ..  
John saw Sherlock wince.... "Let me," John said and Sasha stood aside as John pried Aleksander away from Sherlock as carefully as he could.  
"Take the child down to the hall and wait there," Alexei demanded as Sasha struggled to control Aleksander as the boy fought to get back to Sherlock.

"You could choose to help," Sasha said. The screaming sounded louder in the confined space of the car as they drove away. "The boy is stronger than he looks."  
"And lose my amusement at seeing you play mother?" Alexei said cruelly. "Sherlock seems to be such a natural in the role he even loves the product of his own rape whereas this child likes you no more than your own do.... perhaps he senses you lack some natural instinct for the role... "  
Sasha finally had the child's flailing arms under control.... " Whose fault is that? I barely see the children." he said.  
Alexei's upper lip curled back.... " Did you dare answer me back? If you were not holding the child....."  
"But I am .... since you refuse to help," Sasha was matter of fact.  
"It's fortunate that I find you amusing Sasha ... however the day I don't will be your last upon this earth." Alexei said.  
It was nothing Sasha had not heard a hundred times before.... " Oh be quiet. What use is screaming?" He said bitterly to the child. 


	75. Brief Collisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock feels the guilt of past and current choices and makes a personal sacrifice to help his brother......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lump..... someone who is big but not especially intelligent. Not a nice thing to call someone.
> 
> I do know Agatha Christie isn't meant to be funny.... but somehow it always seems to be...
> 
> Blue the track is Wraith by Peace.

"The car has just left Baker Street," Mycroft's aide relayed the infomation.  
"And Gregory Lestrade?" Mycroft asked.  
"Still remains inside 221B , Sir."

With Aleksander gone the flat suddenly felt very quiet.  
Sherlock stood at the window and watched until the car carrying Aleksander away from him was gone from sight.  
"So that's your son..." Greg said.  
Sherlock turned round so he could read Greg's face. He knew superficially Aleksander looked more like his Fader and he also knew saying that made people uneasy and why that was.... but he wanted to know what Greg truly thought and not only what he was prepared to say. "Most people think he looks more like Charles than he does me."  
"Do they?" Greg said. "I mean, sure, I can see the Nordic in his colouring but he's got your eyes even though they're a different blue." 

John's voice came from behind Greg as he came back upstairs from returning Martha's plate to her.... " He didn't want to go Sherlock."  
"He's insecure. That's my fault. He's only five, he can't understand." Sherlock looked guilty. "Even when I was there I didn't see him for months at a time.... I was so confused about my feelings. I didn't even think I had any towards him until I did."  
"I think that's all parents.... I know my mum always felt guilty that her shifts meant family time had to be prebooked and planned," John said.  
Greg found himself agreeing. "My dad worked longer days than mum did and still mum was the one who felt like she should be in two places at once; do her job, take care of us boys and still have a home cooked dinner on the table. Seems like guilt is more a mum thing...."  
"Oh God... my cooking!" Sherlock said, suddenly projecting way ahead. "He'll never be able to eat anything I make. I'll end up poisoning him.."  
A tactful silence seemed best. Greg had eaten Sherlock's cooking once and that once had been more than enough.....  
"This is where you're meant to disagree with me.... or say I'm improving. I did make that fish pie last week, " a disgruntled Sherlock said. It had almost been edible once Alan had taken most of the blackened potato topping off....  
Greg, who'd actually tried the fish pie, found his stomach clenching against the mere memory.... he remembered watching Riddick pick out the odd fish bone and chew manfully, applying more and more ketchup until the thing was halfway edible....  
"For Heaven's sake," Sherlock said, deducing Greg's line of thought instantly. "It wasn't that bad.... Alan said he liked it...."  
John snorted....  
"Oh shut up John, " Sherlock said. "Or..... I'll invite you and Saul over for dinner and I'll make three courses. I've a Thai recipe with prawns and chicken!"  
"No .... please no..... " John joked.... "Anything but that!..... I can't afford to be hospitalised on a drip right now!" then ducked as Sherlock hurled a cushion at his head.  
Greg shook his head and grinned.... pair of over grown kids both of them.

 

"Sir, Dectective Inspector Lestrade has left Baker Street and is currently heading for the tube station at Baker Street."  
"I see. Keep me informed on the status of John Watson...."  
Mycroft was aware that he was remaining inside his car from what could only be described as a form of avoidance..... it had been a late night and an early morning and the thought of facing an irate Sherlock and a disapproving John wasn't remotely appealing .... and then of course there'd be the need to hide his doubts concerning the wisdom of admitting Aleksander and by necessary extension Charles Magnussen into the new life Sherlock was trying to build......  
Not that Sherlock would see it that way.

Sherlock looked up and down the street.... there was no sign of Mycroft which meant he had to be parked around the corner.  
In hiding.  
Absurd. Did he seriously think that would work?  
John was washing plates methodically. He looked strangely content with the domesticity, stood in Alan's usual place. It was disconcerting.  
"Johnnnn.... " Sherlock mixed a wheedling tone with the 'cat from Shrek eyes' that had failed to work on Alan. It was a new approach and he estimated it could have a success rate as high as 65% depending on how attractive the person he used it on believed him to be.... "Mycroft's outside. In his car.... its parked around the corner.... I need you to take me to him," _So I can yell at him _..... More pressure was needed, John looked doubtfully committed to the idea.... Sherlock played his ace card without regret.... "You know he's been spying on me with cameras when Alan and I thought nobody could see....?"  
" He's been what?" John said furiously.__

____

Mycroft had just selected a piece of Thornton's mint toffee and was rolling it on his tongue in a most satisfactory manner when the inexplicably appalling vision of John Watson storming towards the car in a determinded military manner alongside the lean, leggy form of Sherlock made him swallow the large chewy chunk of mint in one.  
It proved quite impossible to breathe or summon help....  
Mycroft's eyes watered as he thumped his back repeatedly against the leather car seat hoping to dislodge the obstruction in his wind pipe.  
Finally there was a painful swallow just as one of the car doors was thrown open.

Sherlock slunk into the seat next to Mycroft with a smug expression all over his face that rapidly turned to suspicious surprise.... "Have you been crying?"  
"Don't be absurd...." Mycroft protested. His voice sounded hoarse which made the denial appear somewhat less credible.  
"There's a definite dewy glint.... You almost look emotional." Sherlock was looking at him quizically. "What do you think John?"  
John's furious face appeared at the car window. Mycroft was instantly aware of the simmering anger in the brown eyes looking at him..... "John. How delightful!" he lied pleasantly.  
"Yeah, right!" John got into the car in one swift move. "We agreed no bloody spy cams, Mycroft...! "  
"No, you insisted upon that. I merely remained silent as opposed to pointing out the utter foolishness of taking such a risk when Charles Magnussen remains in London! What happened to the Weber's proves that!" Mycroft refused to engage with such lunacy and switched focus back to Sherlock's absurd comment about his lack of emotional engagement..... "I'm perfectly capable of running the gammut of all human emotion Sherlock.... I simply choose to control the less evolved ones."  
"Such as curiosity and deceit?" Sherlock made the question sound almost pleasant.  
"Spying on your own brother.... When he didn't know you were watching... When he's being intimate.... What the Hell where you thinking!" John shook his head.  
Put like that it sounded appalling.... Mycroft had to agree.

"In my defence.... I no longer view the footage." Mycroft winced internally as he heard himself say the words.  
"You 'no longer' view it.... but you have viewed it?" Sherlock was quick to ask.  
"I stopped the footage on that initial occasion as soon as I became aware that yourself and Alan were...." Mycroft sought a neutral word frantically.....  
"About to fuck....? Fucking....?" Sherlock stressed the F in fuck savagely.  
Mycroft realised he would never grow acclimatised to hearing Sherlock swear...."No... I read the situation and stopped viewing long before things.... anything, of that nature ..... happened. ... I haven't watched any of the footage since. You have my word. I simply asked to be kept appraised of any developments....  
"What kind of developments?" Sherlock said, his tone nauseatingly saccharine. "2 in the afternoon unzipped .... 2.30 satisfactory ejaculatory conclusion of both parties reached....? Those kind of developments....?"  
Good God!..... "Of course not! ..... Once I realised the material on the living room camera would be sensitive I stopped viewing at once.... Why am I constantly being mistaken for some type of peeping Tom!" Mycroft was aggrieved.  
"Oh I dunno, because the cap fits?" John said.  
"Don't be absurd!" Mycroft defended himself roundly.

"Who exactly has been watching me and for how long?" Sherlock demanded information. " I took your cameras out before.... so you put them back in. That shows a level of determination to know what Alan and I are doing."  
Mycroft was unsure which of his inner thought processes gave him away but he knew from Sherlock's face that his brother had seen some fleeting expression that meant he now knew what Myroft's motivation definately was and what it wasn't..... "In Finland, Charles was unable to track you.... Here he knows where you are." He knows the internal lay-out of your home, thanks to Aleksander's visit. The man posed a clear and very current threat to Sherlock's safety but Sherlock already knew that.  
"Alan's there with me.... you have security in the street.... police support on call and 221B is a safehouse. John's used it before.... " In Sherlock's voice were the telltale signs of the questions he was afraid to ask.... am I safe in my home, is Alan safe, is Neep?  
Mycroft hurried to reassure. "There is always risk. My job as your brother is too minimise it Sherlock.... the safety of more than one individual depends upon how well I do that.... "  
"No...." Sherlock said firmly.

"I want the cameras removed. I'm not living my life like some endangered animal in a zoo breeding programe! I hate being watched. You knew that!"  
"And if I refuse? If that is not in your best interests?" Mycroft was appalled by his own obstinacy.  
Sherlock stared at Mycroft. Shock clear on his face... "Then I'll leave Baker Street."  
"Don't be absurd!" Mycroft resorted to brotherly admonition. "You are with child! Your health is at best precarious.... You could go into labour prematurely.... "  
"No..." Sherlock stared at Mycroft challengingly.  
"Sherlock! I've made my own motivations and concerns quite clear, " Mycroft was nonplussed.  
"That's not why you've put the cameras back in. All of those baby related risks are covered by one phone call. I call you. You call me. We talk. That's how phones work.... Look at the thinness of your top lip.... slightly flared nostrils.... alongside the subtle but noticeable respiratory changes.... All quite literally indicative of holding speech or thoughts in... What is it you don't want to tell me? The real reasons you put the cams back in?"  
"I acted from concern for your well being Sherlock, nothing more...." Mycroft said stiffly.

"John.... I'll need to pack a overnight bag for myself and Alan and have you take us to another safehouse," Sherlock said. He sounded sad. "Don't let me forget my antenatal check up book.... I have to have that on me at all times, Lars said, in case I go into labour."  
"Alright." John had Sherlock's back in this unquestioningly.  
"Sherlock.... that's enough!" Mycroft felt the fear of Sherlock's loss . " That won't be necessary. I've told you the truth. The certainty of knowing you were safe and well at any given hour is.... was reassurring ..... I acted from concern.... You are after all my brother."..... _An overwhelming sense of concern. Day and night. 24/7 The side effects of which are... troublesome.... Binging/ purging/ relentlessly exercising/ starving oneself.... A truly vicious circle. The legacy of the past dragged shamefully into the present. Does this really require my public humiliation, brother?  
Of course he could say none of it aloud....._

____

"You can get out of the car now John, " Sherlock said, realising how dismissive that sounded only when he saw John's face change.... " Er... and enjoy the rest of the day....." Yuck, now he sounded like some tour guide, all bright cosy platitudes that meant nothing!  
"I thought you wanted my help?"  
John looked surprised, then rapidly annoyed in equal measure to Sherlock's fascination. John's moods really were more mercurial than Alan's.  
"I did and now I need to talk to Mycroft.....Alone."  
"Right..." said John. " Escort you to the car.... then piss off.... that it?"  
Sherlock resorted to the 'cat from Shrek' or CFS move, since its effectiveness on John was proven...... and threw in the wheedling for additional placatory effect..... "Please Johhhnnn?"  
"I'm not an idiot you know!" John said. "I can tell when I'm being played like your bloody fiddle with that eye thing!"  
"It's a violin not a fiddle! I'm not an Appalachian woodsman! " Sherlock said passionately.  
John said with a rueful bitterness. "Go here. Do this. Fetch that. Take me there or here. Make me tea. Pass me a biro...." _Run along now. I don't need you.... I'm not some cat you can shoo away when you don't need me. Sherlock!_  
Sherlock blinked..... "I'm not that bad ... and I make you tea! Last week I made you tea! !" he protested.  
John recalled the teabag Sherlock had forgotten to remove bobbing up from the depths of the mug as he drank. At the time he'd thought it funny now it felt symbolic of how little attention Sherlock paid to him. "Right.... I'll go and 'enjoy the rest of my day' as per orders!" he said stiffly as he flung the car door open, got angrily out and slammed it behind him... hard.

__

The car suddenly seemed very silent.  
"That was unwise, Sherlock." Mycroft said mildly.  
"Oh for fucks sake.... anyone can forget to remove a stupid teabag, if they made them a brighter colour it wouldn't happen! It's meaningless! How is it suddenly an ultimate test of friendship?" Sherlock felt the guilt bite as John limped stiffly away, favouring his good leg.... Would he fuck Saul or Mary to put himself right this time? _Shit. Shit. Shit _.... "It's your fault. You won't talk to me if he's here."__  
Mycroft remained mute on the subject of Dr Watson's pronounced limp or the way it came and went according to his stress level.... It seemed significantly less controversial to pass comment on the topic of the many joys of a truly good blend of loose leaf tea, correctly made in a pot....  
"I'm not making tea in a pot until I'm at least 35!" Sherlock zeroed in on Mycroft before he could comment. " There is nothing wrong with PG Tips.... Alan likes it!"  
Mycroft raised his eyebrows expressively.  
" It's only tea! ....One of these days, I swear I'm going to shave both your eyebrows off while you sleep if you keep doing that.... " Sherlock muttered darkly. "Stop avoiding the subject, Mycroft! We are going to talk about this!"

____

When the silence had stretched and become uneasy Sherlock broke it again..."You can't worry about me to the extent that it makes you ill again."  
"No. I am aware.... " Mycroft despaired silently. Some emotional responses were simply beyond his control.  
"You have to stop." Sherlock said.  
Mycroft resisted the urge to admit it wasn't that simple.  
"I stopped eating once. More than once. It was a protest. I don't know what I thought would happen..... maybe if I lost weight he'd see how unhappy I was. Maybe if I lost a lot of weight he'd find me ugly.... I didn't understand back then..... You can't change the past, you can only change how you cope with remembering."  
Mycroft knew he should bring himself to ask what happened.... although in truth he wished he didn't have to know. He already knew so much that was painful..... "Is forgetting any easier for you, Sherlock?" he asked instead.  
Sherlock looked down as he answered. "Sometimes. Is remembering any easier for you?"  
"Sometimes."

" I understand why you put them in but you still have to take the cams out," Sherlock said and saw the flare of panicked dread in Mycroft's eyes..... "I can't know people are watching me again.... but if you put them back in again and I never find out.... then I wouldn't _know _....."__  
Mycroft was unexpectedly moved.... "That's true. You'd do that for me?"  
"Do what?" Sherlock said obtusely. "You're removing the cams. End of story....." _What I don't know can't hurt me. _He kept his hand clenched and hidden to hide it.  
"Nevertheless.... thank you." Mycroft acknowledged the magnitude of the gift Sherlock had freely given him. Peace of mind..... Now he could sleep knowing should the worst happen, whatever the worst was, he would be informed instantly.... "I'll see it's done this afternoon."__

____

____

____

Sherlock placed an irregularly shaped tinfoil parcel on Mycroft's knee. "I saved three biscuits for Aleksander to take home.... but he was crying so much there wasn't time to give them to him.... I thought you'd like them instead?"  
"How was it.... seeing him again?" Mycroft asked carefully, placing his palm over the package.  
"Good...." Sherlock knew the word was insufficent. "Also not good in parts.... "  
"We both suspected that Charles would have manipulated the child...." Mycroft empathised.  
"No.... I can't even blame Charles.... not for everything. I left Aleksander behind and that hurt him. He never even crossed my mind, I wanted to go so much and the chance was there. I didn't think about him ...." _Or you. _Sherlock unclenched his fingers..." I'm the one who thought I couldn't love him before I even got to know him."  
Mycroft hated to see Sherlock blame himself. "That is not your fault. You were denied time and opportunity to bond, Charles saw to that.... You may think you didn't love him .... it may even be true that living there you could not.... but, you so clearly do now, Sherlock. You are unwavering in your love for your son." __

____

"Alan always said Aleksander was as much my son as he was Charles. You have to get to know him. You're his Uncle..... Alan should have been allowed to be there. So should you." Sherlock's voice was bleak.  
Ah.... It occurred to Mycroft that he had the ability to offer his brother something that he knew would help him.... "If you feel up to walking Sherlock, Alan is still in the Palace gardens. You could join him if you wish and spend some time alone? "  
"I'd like that," Sherlock said. 

Alan was crouched down, tempting the peacock closer with a crumbled granola bar he'd found in his pocket.  
Sherlock watched his lover as he walked closer, seeing the familiar care Alan took with all the quiet things he did.  
When he was almost close enough to call out he deliberately let one foot scuff against a tree root where it broke the soil and Alan's head turned his way in a second as the peacock fled....  
Riddick dusted both palms against each other to be rid of the crumbs on his skin and stood up. His Aunt had always told him to mind his manners and be a little more talkative around Omega.... 'Nobody likes a wordless lump, Alan Riddick so just you think on that and have some conversation ready for Billy. He's a chatty lad that one'.... but Sherlock's pale beauty always left him initially lost for words .  
Sherlock never seemed to mind it.

"Hello..." Sherlock was smiling at him but Alan could see all the giveaway signs of strain just under the surface.  
"Hey there beautiful! Everything go right with Aleksander?" Riddick asked.  
Sherlock pulled out his phone.... standing close with his fingers around the screen so Riddick could see and Alan found himself looking at Sherlock's new screensaver of Aleksander marching one of Mrs Hudson's animal biscuits around the plate.... "Sasha saw me take it but he didn't say."  
Alan looked at the image . The child was unaware of the camera. Innocently caught in a moment of play..... "Got a look of you.... when you're concentrated on summat you look like that."  
"You think?" Sherlock tried to see it.  
"Aye.... So.... what's he like, this lad of yours?" Something wasn't right....Alan knew it.  
The last thing in the world he expected as a reply to that question was for Sherlock to begin to cry.

Mycroft watched Alan fuss soothingly over Sherlock from the comfort of one of Her Majesty's own fleet of Land Rovers aware of a growing loneliness in his own chest.  
In the kitchen of 221B , Gregory had stood that close to Alexei Adeyev....an Alpha whose sexual appetites were rumoured to be brutally sadistic....  
Mycroft opened the biscuits Sherlock had left him and crammed all three into his mouth within seconds....

Greg Lestrade had just balled up his socks and kicked them down the landing in the rough direction of the laundry basket when his phone rang.  
"Mycroft?"  
"Opera, Grgeory.... I realise we've discussed jazz in some depth but not Opera...." Mycroft's voice said.  
"I'm no Opera buff... but I like a bit of Maria Callas and some Puccini," Greg said. Mycroft sounded wrong.... brittle.  
"Madame Butterfly opens at Covent Garden Opera House next week." Mycroft said.  
"Are you asking me out on another date?" Greg asked.  
Mycroft opened his mouth to confirm that was indeed the intention....  
"Ok then," Greg said before Mycroft could answer.  
Wonderful! "Next week then," Mycroft confirmed. He could think of no other way to prolong the conversation without revealing his own need...  
"Hold on....not so fast!" Greg said.....  
"Is there a problem?" Mycroft checked through the conversation in his mind.....  
"I've a lasagne in the oven. Enough for two if you fancy coming over? Put our feet up, loosen our belts.... eat off trays and watch Agatha Christie? That's always worth a laugh or two." Greg made the offer.  
Sounds like Heaven.... "I have a bottle of the perfect Italian red," Mycroft said.


	76. Changes in Awareness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft make it work for them in their own unique way....  
> Sherlock tries to find out more about Riddick's past and Billy......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting.... it's been a crazy week.
> 
> The track is Our Of The Blue by Prides.

The room was dark now, Greg had barely noticed the lengthening shadows; slumped in a companiable torpor next to Mycroft.  
He didn't want to jinx things by thinking about them too much or getting up to put the light on and pull the curtains.  
"Gregory?" There was a rustle as Mycroft held the yellow packet of potato chips in front of Greg and shook its half empty contents enticingly.  
"Don't mind if I do," Greg said and dug deep to the bottom , his fingers bumping Mycroft's palm through the packet.

"I should put the kettle on....." Nothing about the idea appealed to him. He could hear Mycroft crunching away , just inches to his right, so close their shoulders were touching.....  
"I'll make a pot," Mycroft said. "If you have a loose tea?" Probably not, so few people did nowadays.  
Greg wished that he hadn't mentioned now it meant Mycroft moving..... he slid lower in his seat and said reluctantly..... "In the red tin caddy."

Mycroft usually enjoyed making tea. It was at once familiar yet exotic, and even had its own wonderfully unique vocabulary and ritualistic actions.  
He heated the china pot and couldn't resist inhaling as he opened the tea caddy and sank its specially shaped metal spoon into the richly scented, dark tea.  
Normally the mere scent of tea reminded him of a life now gone.... Sherlock thickly buttering scones at the table under the bright overhead lights and licking the stickiness of the jam from his own fingers....  
This time however, Mycroft found himself regretting his absurd decision to move from the couch. Gregory's body had been propped against his own.... a slight turn of the head and their mouths could have met.  
Mycroft stared critically at his reflection in the darkened window, called himself an idiot and waited for the kettle to boil since he could hardly return to his position at Gregory's side without having made the tea he had so foolishly offered to make.

The sitting room was still in semi darkness, illuminated only by the flickering light of the television.... Mycroft placed the tray on the pine coffee table by Gregory's socked feet and successfully fought down a random urge to caress the Omega's socked toes.  
"There's a documentary on Putin," Greg's voice came from the shadows. He thought it sounded like it could be Mycroft's type of programe.  
"I've met him, you know?" Mycroft said as he poured two cups, being careful not to overfill them.  
Greg struggled to sit up from his prone position, trouser clad backside slipping against the overly shiny leather sofa, with its deeply sunken seats. Damn this couch, it was past time he bought a new one more to his own taste. "What did you think of him?"  
"Ahh.... Intelligent, watchful.... Impossible to read of course, given his KGB background he has few genuine 'tells' ."  
"You sound like you liked him?" Or as though Mycroft could relate to him? Greg knew that had to be wrong but for a moment it seemed that way.  
"Oh....? No, I have no personal opinion either way. I've met several world Leaders and have liked none of them as individuals." Mycroft said.... "But so few are truly men, or women of any genuine principle."  
"You're saying they're all corrupt?" Greg was surprised by how openly Mycroft said it.  
"Am I?" Mycroft's dangerous smile was half hidden in the shadows. "Perhaps I simply know too much about them to hold them in high regard....."  
"What exactly is it you do?" Greg asked cheekily.  
"I occupy a minor role in the British Government....." _Head of MI6 to be precise._  
"So minor you've met most of the world Leaders?" Greg poked a little fun.  
"Quite so." Mycroft said with a smile. 

__

____

 

Mycroft enjoyed a sip of tea. "What did you think of the child.... of Sherlock's child?"  
"Bright. I'd take a guess and say he's very used to getting his own way." Greg's appraisal was thoughtful. "He seemed happy to be there with Sherlock."  
"Hmm," Mycroft said. "You know he bit Sherlock?"  
Greg was genuinely shocked. "He bit him? That's a bit worrying!"  
"On the chest. It required medical attention." Mycroft took another sip of tea. "Some childish notion of a bond bite."  
"How did Sherlock cope with that?" Greg asked.  
"As well as can be expected. He is determined to believe the best of the child.... encouraged by Alan Riddick, of course." Mycroft let some doubt colour his voice.  
"Alan thinks he's still young enough to change."  
"Does he mean Sherlock or the child?" Mycroft asked drily..... "Alan spoke to you concerning the matter?"  
"Both, if it comes to it," Greg said...... "You don't think so?"  
"Sherlock is endlessly adaptable..... a child , however is subjected to influences from both parents and of course there is the additional pressure of Magnussen's operative conditioning." Mycroft said.  
The conversation wasn't sitting well in Greg's mind. He felt disloyal, recalling how touchingly proud Sherlock had looked when he introduced his son.... "You have to let Sherlock find his own way. Aleksander is his son."  
"I'd much prefer Sherlock didn't feel the need to see the child." Mycroft admitted that much. "However he does.... I'd never stand in his way but nevertheless I have several concerns, regarding the child's possible nature."  
Greg reached out a hand and turned on the lamp. There was a spreading atmosphere of furtive concern that made him feel like shedding some light on things..... "He seemed like any other five year old boy to me."  
"So I am sure did Adolf Hitler." Mycroft quipped bleakly. "One hardly imagines he went around invading the prams and playpens of other infants."  
"Oh I dunno.... depends if you parked him next to one he could annexe!" Greg said and was pleased when Mycroft laughed and the mood shifted again.

Greg stood at the sink next to Mycroft and dried up as Mycroft washed, stacking everything neatly alongside him as he worked.  
Mycroft had rolled his shirt sleeves up and placed his cufflinks on the tiled window sill next to Greg's china cactus collection. The new Mexican themed ornaments clashed competitively with Greg's retro 50's theme but he'd never say so.... "You should probably soak this dish overnight," he said instead.  
"We can leave it in the sink and scrub it again in the morning after breakfast," Greg said, watching the way the soap suds lingered in the fine auburn hairs of Mycroft's arms and hid the pale freckles beneath.  
Mycroft concentrated on the prongs of the fork he was washing..... That almost sounded like an invitation to stay the night.....  
"That's if you'd like to stay, of course? No pressure." Greg turned the cheese grater in his hands , making sure he got the tea towel into every last hole.  
"After what happened last time..... when I failed to rise to expectations?" Mycroft said.  
Greg reached over and took the fork from Mycroft's fingers.... "I already said.... I don't have any expectations."  
"That sounds so simple...." Mycroft said ruefully.  
"But you don't think it can be?" Greg's voice was kind.  
"I've a tendancy to over think these things...." Mycroft knew that to be true.  
Greg polished the fork with the tea towel. "Don't do that then," he said calmly.

Mycroft stood in Greg's small functional bathroom and berated himself under cover of the noise from the extractor fan. "What must he think of you? Call yourself a man. What is your problem? You want this.... You want Gregory.... Bloody well get back in there and make that clear before some other Alpha makes a move! "  
The face that looked back at him in the mirror was unconvinced he could do this.  
_Even Sherlock was trying to change and move past his fears.. _Why was he still unable to do the same? Why did Mycroft remain frustratingly unable to begin to satisfy the Omega he wanted so very much.__  
The oval shape of the small sink tempted Mycroft cruelly.... a finger forced violently down the throat and all that he'd eaten, that now seemed to sit so heavily inside him would be gone..... purged in a fury of painful self loathing.  
It was his usual response to an unsolvable problem.... but the food was a part of Gregory and of the evening they'd spent together.... to reject it felt fundamentally wrong.

____

____

Greg stood, waiting at the foot of the stairs, caught in the dilemna of knowledge, aware that put under any pressure Mycroft could even now be forcing himself to vomit.  
When the bathroom door opened he was relieved.

 

"I've some ice cream for dessert.... and there's still some fruit salad left from last night....." Greg was crouched down searching for options to offer so Mycroft would stay a while longer. "Unless you have to go.... you could stay even if it's in the spare room? It's full of John's junk but I can shift some boxes."  
Mycroft stayed back in the doorway.... the light from the hallway behind him making it hard to see his face. "Sherlock suggested...." he began and saw how the fingers of Greg's hand tightened on the freezer door as he spoke..... "Sherlock suggested.... a progression of sorts but slowly....."  
Greg closed the freezer door and stood up. Sherlock's advice had worked out last time.... "What do you have in mind?"  
"Long before Sherlock and Alan were..... intimate.... they began by simply inhabiting the same space......"  
"You want to move in?" Greg was taken aback.  
"Good Heavens... No.... Not that..... I.... That is to say, I'd be quite.... at some stage..... Perhaps I expressed myself poorly..... " Mycroft was thrown adrift by the assumption. It was too soon surely for that?  
"Tell me what you did mean?" Greg was unfazed. They were close enough to touch now....  
"Sharing the same space..... As you said it needn't be complicated.... it can ultimately be more simple. A step at a time...." Mycroft was hopeful that Greg would understand. "We could share the same bed.... platonically?"  
"Seems as good a place to start as any," Greg said agreeably.... "Ok."  
For once it really seemed to be that simple, Mycroft felt sheer relief.

Mycroft had often shared his own bed with Sherlock.....his brother's coded tap upon the door in the dark of night had been one of the happier memories of his childhood.  
Like all large stately homes the heating system had been noisy, antiquarian and ineffective and the house always cold..... any late night confidences therefore best shared in the warmth of bed and blankets. They'd lay awake discussing history and music late into the night and when Sherlock fell silent there was always the sweet pleasantness of his familiar family scent upon the sheets and pillow cases to lull Mycroft into his own, less troubled slumber.  
He'd never shared a bed with an Omega he was sexually attracted to before tonight.

Greg's bedroom was unchanged from the suit check fiasco and that horrific occasion when Mycroft had drank himself into a stupour before blurting out that he was a rapist.  
"You don't snore do you?" Greg was taking off his socks.  
Mycroft considered the prospect.... " Nobody has ever informed me that I do".... but then he'd only ever shared a bed with Sherlock. His brother had been too young and innocent then to care whether Mycroft snored or not but surely he would have said something had he been kept awake...?  
"Good," Greg said.....  
"I'll need to make a call to arrange personal security...." Mycroft apologised for the necessity. He was aware Grgeory must by now realise he was being less than truthful when he said he held a minor Government role.  
"They'll stay outside...?" Greg had to check as an image of armed and suited agents on his landing and in his garden reared its worrying head.  
"Of course.... I'll ensure they are discreet." Mycroft said. "They have a vehicle."  
"Hidden in an ice cream van?" Greg said. It seemed a bit crazy.  
"With a satellite device disguised as a revolving cone on top of course." Mycroft teased back and was gratified to hear Gregory laughing.

"I found a couple of spare hangers for your suit," Greg laid them on the foot of the bed, watching as Mycroft set wallet and phone down upon the bedside table. .  
"Thank you," Mycroft reached for a hanger and placed his jacket carefully upon it, adjusting until it sat right.  
"I usually sleep on the right...." Greg said. It was traditionally the Alpha side but he was used to it now. "I can keep my dressing gown on over my pj's if you're more comfortable with that?" he offered, though God knows how well he'd sleep if he did as it was heavy fleece.... "Are you leaving your shirt on or taking it off?"  
Mycroft glanced up.... his gaze landed on the slice of Gregory's torso he could see through the Omega's open shirt and stayed there. Dear God.....that slice of bare skinned torso was masculine perfection. Not an obvious muscled, gym honed grid of muscle but still.... a solidly masculine, strong manly body that was eminently desirable.....  
Greg took off his shirt.....  
"I should probably leave my trousers on," Mycroft said urgently as his cock stirred. 

Greg was no fool... he knew the signs of Alpha arousal....  
He'd never met an Alpha who was so uncomfortable with his bodies instinctive responses before....  
"I'll go brush my teeth," he said tactfully, taking his pj bottoms in with him to change.  
Mycroft sat still on the edge of the bed, fought down the urge to lay feverish hands on his own cock and listened to the water running down the plughole of the bathroom next door.

"Is this moving too fast? Is it all too much?" Greg was sat beside Mycroft on the bed. "Talk to me. I just need to know how you're feeling.... What do you need from me?"  
"Disconcerted.... " Mycroft hoped the one word would suffice.  
"Have you ever shared a bed with anyone before?" Greg asked.  
Mycroft's laughter was addressed at himself.... at the lunacy of being born Elite and yet failing to have the necessary drive..... "With Sherlock.... he was a child.... He craved attention.... conversation....."  
"Nobody since that?"  
Mycroft gave a low, self derogatory laugh.... "I avoid placing myself in positions of vulnerabilty.."  
"We'd all do that if we could" Greg's voice held so much understanding.  
Mycroft's hand was holding onto the edge of the mattress, fingers digging in around its edge. "I can't entirely control my more physical reactions...."  
"You're attracted to me.... I'm attracted to you," Greg knew without seeing that Mycroft was hard.... the Alpha's rigid, humilated posture gave him away..... "If you didn't have a response like that.... trust me, we'd have a bigger issue somewhere down the line.... "  
Mycroft laughed. A short, strangely futile sound....  
Greg closed his palm over Mycroft's tensed hand and stroked.... and the hand beneath his came around to lock fingers with his own....  
He leant in, mouth close to Mycroft's ear.... "You can control the reactions you need to control.... You already are. You have been since you came in here.... You don't trust yourself to give or to take...." he let his lips brush against Mycroft's ear as he spoke, his breath humid against the pale skin.... "but I trust you....whenever you're ready. We don't have to do anything more tonight than just be together."  
Mycroft's inhalation was shaken. His face now turned towards Gregory's own so close he could see himself reflected in the Omega's dark pupils.... "Are you sure, Gregory?" His hand cupped the side of Gregory's face, fingers warm , thumb tracing slow over the lips that parted willingly to his curious touch.  
"I've never been surer of anything" Greg said. "Lie down with me. Let me hold you."

 

In the darkened bedroom of 221B there was only the raucous sound of hard panted breath chasing breath....  
"There.... right there?" Alan begged to know.... pushing for Sherlock to vocalise the pleasure and make some noise.  
"Alan!" Sherlock's desperate moan came from deep in his throat as Alan's oiled palm slicked once more around the Omega's pale cock...."Alan!"  
Riddick stilled and cupped his hand round as Sherlock came , his warm wet seed striping Alan''s palm.....  
"That's it..... you little beauty!" Alan gasped harshly and slid that same wet come covered hand down around himself, jerking furiously..... "Fuck....!" he cursed helplessly..... aroused for so long he was almost too sensitised to bear the touch.... "Fuck... Fuck.... Sherlock!"  
Sherlock pressed one tender kiss to the hollow of Alan's neck and let his tongue press against the smooth skin and slide along the collar bone, tasting the salt of Alan's beaded sweat.....  
"Argh.... O fuck!" Alan grunted, undone by that one simple , sensual touch as his heavy splatter covered the high oval of Sherlock's belly......  
In the sudden wordless silence that came after, all Sherlock heard was Alan's desperate breathing amid his own; fierce and overwhelmed.... panting hot and hard against each other... and he held on , arms clinging; Alan's anchor in the storm.

"Christ...." Alan lacked the words. "Christ Almighty, lad. I never had it feel like that."  
Sherlock smiled..... lips curving against Alan's racing pulse.

When he was to sleepy to move or care about the mess upon his skin , Alan always did.... fetching a warm wet flannel and wiping reverently over Sherlock's sticky skin before he'd do his own.  
This time Neep kicked furiously underneath the flannel's warm, wet path and Alan laughed.... "I think he knows what just happened and he's none too keen on it.... He's right mardy tonight."  
Riddick sounded impressed by the flurry of kicks and Sherlock smiled at the daftness of that.... "He can't know." Sherlock didn't care whether Neep thought he should have a sex life or not....  
"I reckon he does...." Riddick stroked his hand lovingly over Sherlock's skin until Neep hushed.  
"Maybe." Sherlock squirmed his body into Alan's, pushing for closeness and warmth as Riddick accepted him into his arms and moved to let him closer, hands slipping down to knead the tight muscle of Sherlock's arse contentedly.  
_Now _felt like the right time..... "Alan.... Did you and Billy want children?" He felt the tiny changes in the body against his own before Alan answered.... tension and evasion.__  
" We were little more than kids ourselves when we got bonded.." Riddick turned his face into Sherlock's hair and breathed in. "It's a lie what was said .... when we were up North.... I wasn't fucking with him behind anyone's back.... he was none too well even then, round his heats, he'd a lot of cramps. We weren't up to owt we shouldn't have been... I went over to see him while she was out, we'd the blanket over to keep him warm..... She saw what she wanted to see.... She never thought I was good enough."  
"Billy's mum?"  
"Aye.... He was her only son.... she wanted to see him marry someone better than me.... a squaddie from the wrong side of town, rough round the edges." Alan said bitterly. "She made his life a fucking misery over me. She was at him 24/7 always telling him I was up to no good, when was I heck as like. You know me, I'm not like that." Alan stroked warm soothing hands over Sherlock's skin. "Made him choose between family loving him and being with me..... Sour cow wouldn't even come to the town hall for the bonding."  
Alan said so little about how things had been before.... whenever he said anything at all Sherlock's curiousity soaked it up like a sponge.... "She was wrong. Money can't buy love or happiness," Sherlock said.  
Alan pulled Sherlock in close, bump squashed between them and Neep reacted in protest, his whole body pushing against the confines of the womb. "See? Like I said..... he's right mardy," Alan said matter of factly.  
"I'm hungry, maybe it's that?" Sherlock was routinely starving in the middle of the night nowadays.  
"Tell me what you want..... I'll fetch it for you." Alan said.  
"Cheese on toast," Sherlock said.  
"Thought you hated melted cheese?" Riddick was surprised.  
"I do.... It's a craving...Do we have any pickled gherkins?." Sherlock said.

____

__

 

It wasn't until afterwards, when he'd eaten three slices of hot melted cheese on toast and had to chew two indigestion tablets, that Sherlock wondered if he'd just been deliberately distracted from the topic.  
The idea that maybe he had been, sat uneasily with him all day.


	77. Take A Deep Breath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg takes a risk after another dead Omega is found .... desperate to see if Sherlock can tell them anything they don't already know....  
> Mycroft is really not going to approve!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise.... It's Molly Hooper! Before anyone asks ...in this story she doesn't have a crush on Sherlock.... she does think he is awfully pretty though....
> 
> Gaviscon is a medicine used for indigestion.
> 
> Blue the track is This Is Me by Keala Settle.

Greg Lestrade was set faced as he got out of the lift and headed down the long anonymous corridor and through the morgues heavy double doors towards Sally. "What have we got ?"  
"Another Omega.... this one's fresh," Sally Donovan was stood waiting with a resigned look on her face.  
Greg took a look in through the small glass window in the door...he could see a pair of bluish deathly white dead feet.  
Molly was stood at one of the two stainless steel downdraft autopsy tables.... designed to draw away fumes and bacteria and make working with a body a less nauseating task..... which could only mean one of the bodies she'd been examining had to smell worse than the average. "If the bodies recent....what's causing the smell?"  
"Leanne Riddick's body. They sent it down from Yorkshire on the overnight train." Sally said. "I never smelt anything like it."  
Greg took a deep breath and popped a mint into his mouth before holding the door open for Sally..."After you," he said with an evil grin.  
"Thanks for nothing Guv," Sally said reluctantly.

Even with the extra strong mint and the special table the sickly suffocating smel of rot coming from the zipped body bag on the other table still made Greg's stomach acid edging constantly up his throat....."Molly. What do you have for me?"  
Molly barely looked up as she wrote her notes... "Another Omega John Doe.... the pathology just came back.... Raped then murdered , just like all the others..... There are clear marks of restraint... here and here. Leather strap approximately so wide..... "She made a gesture in mid air with finger and thumb....." Soft tissue bruising indicates he was tied down on top of something..... some hair has been ripped out on both sides of his head.... severe teeth damage after death means I can't prove it but I'd stake my repuation on the fact a large ball gag was used from the bruising inside the gums.... "  
"Shit.... He fits the kill pattern." Greg looked down at the body..... slim, brunette, pale skinned.... face a complete bloody unidentifiable mess and knew he had another victim..... "The damage to the features what caused that?"  
"Hammer.... but after the cadaver's head was wrapped up.... and about an hour after death occurred...no coagulation , you see? " Molly said.  
"So what killed him?"  
"He suffocated..... slowly. I think he was still alive when his head was wrapped in three heavy duty black bin bags."  
God, what a way to go....."What's different about this one? Something has to be Sally, for you to call me in so early.... ?"  
"This time our killer acted alone and whoever disposed of the body didn't dump it into the Thames.... You know all along we've had the same two anonymous Alpha males acting as a kill team..... this time there's only one single man's sperm." Sally filled Greg in on the important infomation Molly had given her.  
Greg gave a long low whistle.  
Molly pushed a folder towards Greg..... "It's all in there."

Greg picked the folder up.... "Leanne Riddick," he said. "Do you have any of her results back?"  
Molly looked surprised at his interest..... "Some. Her body shows signs of advanced decomposition.... some tissues bordering the injection sites are necroctic.... internally she's in an almost liquified state of putrefication.... She's been given a massive overdose of Krokodil...."  
"You said 'given'?" Greg knew Sherlock was insistant that she'd been clean at the time of her death.....  
"Oh yes, there's no signs she ever used it before.... It's a lethal dose, she never stood a chance.... whoever administered it used a hand to push her head back, before they stabbed her with the needle.... The killers fingernails dug in underneath Leanne's jaw.... Now Leanne's feet are fairly unaffected, when she did use she was regularly injecting between her toes, but whoever gave her this overdose injected her into her arm and had to try a few times for a vein.... The killer must have sat on top of her to hold her down... there's a cracked rib, whoever did this kneed her several times and broke the bone....."  
"You said she.....?" Sherlock had been saying the killer was female all along....  
"Definitely.... I managed to get a trace of nail varnish from one of the deeper ulcerations in the arm..."  
Molly's lack of any squeamishness never ceased to amaze Greg.  
"What would you say if I told you somebody took one look at her body from behind glass and saw pretty much everything you've just listed?" Greg wanted Molly's opinion.  
Molly puckered her brows in surprise.... "I'd say if they aren't working as a forensic detective already than they should be."  
"That's what I thought you'd say," Greg said." Do you want to meet him?"

As the lift doors closed behind them Greg caught the expression on Sally's face..... "Spit it out Sally... what's wrong?"  
"He's an Elite Omega Greg.... you can't seriously think he can do the work we do?"  
"Can't I?" Greg had heard shit like that his whole career but never from Sally....  
"You of all people know the prejudice .... but you came up from the ranks.... he's some spoiled posh boy...."  
Greg was fired up..... "He's a lot more than that Sally. He's a natural.... I've never seen anyone with more instinct for it before...... Leanne Riddick.... Sherlock spotted every external sign of murder on her body through a viewing window; everything Molly just told me, only he did it from behind glass and within minutes..... He checked her room out and pieced together her life story and then he examined her corpse.... You smelt that body Sally ....At 20 years old, first murder victim he'd ever seen , let alone touched ..... could you have done what Sherlock did?"  
The lift door opened..... "It's on your own head.... this one." Sally said and Greg heard the warning note in her voice. "I've always had your back..... but I don't agree with you on this!"

 

Greg sat in his car and waited for Alan Riddick to leave and head of down Baker Street towards Regents Park for his usual early morning run.  
The conversation he'd had with Sally sat uneasily at the front of his mind. Greg had had years of that kind of prejudice and worse.... he'd been sent to make tea while Alpha officers gathered round the crime board, he'd had his opinions ignored as though he hadn't spoken, he'd put up with the sneering comments and the crude sexual jokes..... he'd stuck it out and broken through regardless but it hadn't been without personal cost.....  
Could Sherlock do that?  
Would he want a career when he'd have a new baby keeping him awake all through the night?  
After everything Greg had seen Sherlock go through..... did he have it in him to want to carve out a role for himself where to do so would draw jealousy and dislike his way just because of his secondary gender?

Alan was running late..... the police protection had been outside for twenty minutes already but the sitting room curtains upstairs were still pulled.  
Next to him on the empty car seat Greg had Molly's post mortem file.  
He planned on showing the crime scene photos to Sherlock.... and then seeing if he wanted to come along and see the body that afternoon.

When Alan Riddick finally came out he was wearing running gear and carrying a bright yellow bucket which he put down just outside the front door. Greg waited , planning to speak to the man as he ran past but to Greg's surprise Riddick ducked into one of the black cars waiting at the kerb and was driven away at speed.  
Greg heard the press calls from accross the street as he got out and made his way to the front door where Martha was just setting out her bucket of bleached water and getting ready to scrub her front step clean like it she did every morning.....  
"Hello Dectective Inspector.... you're here very early." Martha tilted her head and looked up at Greg with bright birdlike eyes.  
"Morning.... Sherlock awake?"  
"Oh yes, poor love's been awake hours with indigestion..... Cheese on toast in bed , would you believe? I told Alan .... cooked cheese when you're pregnant will give you nightmares but oh no , he knows best......" She sounded annoyed with Riddick..... "He needs to learn to say no...."  
"I'll go on up then shall I?" Greg said and Martha moved her bucket aside so vigourously that water slopped over Greg's shoes. 

Inside the hallway was dark and shady and as always Greg was struck by how timelessly quiet these old houses were compared to the business of the city outside.  
The door to Sherlock's flat was wide open and Greg could hear a radio or something as he turned the corner of the stairs.  
' _Now here it comes ..... another pain is buiding. Take a deep slow breath in and fill those lungs..... Concentrate on what's happening inside your body..... Stretching.....Imagine your cervix opening like the petals on a flower.....and breathe..... slow and steady..... Slowly rock your pelvis.. sigh the pain out.... let it leave your body..... and relax..... with each contraction your baby is closer too birth _.....'__  
Greg stopped in the doorway..... What the Heck?  
Sherlock's disgruntled voice came from the floor, where Greg now saw he was on all fours..... "Mrs Hudson....GO AWAY..... I took the stupid Gaviscon already.... Alan saw me!.... It tastes disgusting.... and it hasn't helped!"  
"Errr .... it's me," Greg said.... just as the man's voice on the birthing CD said...... ' _You can feel that pressure ..... baby's head is pushing down now..... it may feel as though you need to have a large bowel movement _.....'  
"Oh _shit _! Greg, who let you in....!" Sherlock said appropriately/ inappropriately depending on how you looked at things..... and crawled frantically over the floor on his hands and knees to fumble for the off button on the CD player......____

__

_____ _

"Sorry about that," Greg said again as he watched Sherlock slather a slice of blackened toast in jam and butter..... "Mrs Hudson said it was ok to come on up...."  
Sherlock bit into the toast savagely and glowered. He'd had no sleep, he had chronic indigestion and his pelvis was aching. It was all making him feel short tempered...... "What's in the folder?"  
"Another body....." Greg said as he placed the folder on the table..... then slid it over towards Sherlock..... "I thought you might take a look.... "  
Sherlock stuck the slice of toast between his teeth and flipped open the folder.....  
Greg watched Sherlock turn over photo after gory photo...... from shattered eye socket and pulped eyeball to the broken teeth and the idented hole in the soft tissues at the base of the throat.....  
Sherlock took his slice of toast out from between his teeth and turned it around before taking a giant bite..... "Well clearly whoever it is has been murdered...." he said flippantly.  
"I was hoping you'd go a bit deeper....." Greg kept his tone calm and level. Sherlock had to be embarassed to be caught practising for the birth....  
Sherlock snorted..... " Deeper? Is 6 cm deep enough? ..... Hammer blows to the face but not directly struck on the skin..... Was this head wrapped as well, because that pattern of damage and the wound depth looks exactly like my pork belly did and that was double wrapped...?."  
"What the Heck?..... What pork belly? " Greg hadn't a clue what Sherlock meant.

Sherlock pulled out his phone..... "After we found that Omega who'd had the school book bag over his head ..... I bought the closest thing to human flesh I could buy.... free range pork belly from Selfridges and inflicted various blows on it using a selection of DIY tools then measuring the depth..... " He scrolled through his phone at speed....."There!..... See that's my record of the injuries sustained by my pork using a large ROK household hammer with a metal head measuring 2.5 cm, with the meat double wrapped in resuable plastic carrier bags ..... Ignore the giant hole, that's where Alan had a go...way too much strength.... Other than that the damage done to my pork belly 'victim' looks almost identical to the wounds....." Suddenly Sherlock sounded very unsure, aware that Greg's mouth had dropped open in disbelief.... "Doesn't it?"  
Greg had a surreal image of Sherlock hammering with homicidal fury into some top quality pork belly on the kitchen table while Riddick watched him dotingly..... "What did you do with the pork belly after? " he found himself asking incredulously.  
"Oh.... we ate it.... Mrs Hudson roasted it in a balsamic reduction.... Alan said it was lovely. " Sherlock sounded mortified as a thought occurred to him. "Should I have kept it as evidence?"  
Greg started to chuckle.... "No but you could have asked me over for dinner , genius... I love pork crackling !" He meant it as a joke and only realised his mistake after he said it....

"I know I'm not a genuis....." Sherlock said stiffly, humiliation all over his face. "It was only an improvised experiment.... I do know it's stupid compared to proper post mortem results...."  
Greg shook his head.... "Yet you.... on your kitchen table with a piece of bloody pork belly.... you got results every bit as accurate as Molly Hooper did..."  
"Whose Molly Hooper? " Sherlock said.  
"Someone you need to meet.... What are you doing this afternoon?" Greg asked.  
"I've a antenatal check up...." Sherlock said. "Me and Alan.... and then Aric's coming here to talk tactics...."  
"What are you doing now?" Greg asked.  
Sherlock's face lit up... "Absolutely nothing important," he said. "You're going to show me the body aren't you? "  
"That's the plan," Greg admitted.  
Sherlock put what was left of his slice of toast back on the plate.... "I'll go get dressed," he said.... "You do know Mycroft will be furious if you let me anywhere near another body?" He felt honour bound to explain that too Greg.  
"Yeah... I know that." Greg said with resignation. "Go on get some clothes on.... before Alan gets back."

"You're car looks like a bomb hit it! Didn't you just say you got it valeted?" Sherlock sounded thrilled by the mess. "You can't be driving Mycroft anywhere in this....chaos.... can you? You do know he's neatness personified?"  
Greg grinned.... "Hello pot .... meet kettle.... "  
Sherlock smiled and began rifling through the food options Greg had in a bag in the footwell.... "Are these prawn crisps safe to eat if you're pregnant?"  
"Yeah.... help yourself." Greg said. Crisps had to be safe didn't they? " You seem hungry?"  
"It's not for me.... it's for the baby...." Sherlock managed to say despite a mouthful of crisps.

Greg's phone lit up as soon as they left Baker Street....  
"That'll be Mycroft wanting to know why you've kidnapped me without his consent.." Sherlock said joyfully.  
"I haven't kidnapped you. I've borrowed you..." Greg said truthfully.  
"When he finds out you're taking me to a morgue he won't be happy...." Sherlock tilted the crisp packet to get the last crumbs into his mouth.  
Greg already knew that.  
Sherlock's phone lit up next.....  
"Mycroft's decided to double his options of one of us answering," Sherlock said after a glance at the screen. "Shall I tell him you're taking me to the morgue.... He tends to worry."  
"I'm not taking you to a morgue.... I'm taking you to meet my interesting Beta friend Molly Hooper.... who just happens to work in a morgue." Greg said. He already knew Mycroft worried and he was fighting back the guilt already....  
"Semantics never work with Mycroft !" Sherlock sounded very sure of that.

"Are you always this hyper?" Greg asked as he looked for a parking space.... and tried to ignore Sherlock playing an invisible piano on the dashboard with long fluid fingers...  
"Only when something exciting is happening," Sherlock said. "Normally by now Alan is halfway around the park and Mrs Hudson has come upstairs to watch daytime tv with me.. its about as exciting as watching paint dry...."  
"You.... need a job!" Greg said with feeling. "Something to keep you busy. Daytime TV is okay for the elderly."  
"The cooking segment is actually quite useful.... " Sherlock said honestly.  
"You can cook and still hold down a job...." Greg said as he led the way into the lobby and over to the lift. " I do...."  
" I don't even know what job I could do," Sherlock said.  
"You'll think of something," Greg said.  
"Those are Mycroft's agents behind us...." Sherlock knew them all by sight.  
"Good, at least we've got protection. Mycroft can't complain about that." Greg hit the door close button inside the lift and prayed it closed faster than the agents could walk....  
"They look really pissed off..." Sherlock smirked as the lift door shut just before the security reached them.  
Greg had to admit they did.....

"Molly Hooper.... Sherlock Holmes...." Greg was relieved to see Leanne Riddick's body bag was out of sight and out of smell range.  
Sherlock had really tried not to have any preconceptions.... but from the name he'd expected a lady in her 40s at least....  
Molly Hooper was about the same age as he was....  
She wore several brightly cheerful items of clothing that didn't really go together....  
She had long dark hair with some kind of strange hair accessory in.... Not sure what that is?  
She didn't look like she spent all day around dead bodies.... she looked more like the kind of person who played competition chess and owned a cardigan made from llama wool....

Molly wasn't a person to jump to conclusions.  
She'd seen Sherlock Holmes on the Tv and the front page of newspapers since the trial began.  
She knew he was stunningly gorgeous ....  
In photos he looked like a character from her favourite fantasy book .... He could have been a Elvin Prince.....  
The reality was .... wow.....  
He'd be totally brilliant at cosplay if she could only talk him into it...

"Hello.... We've come to look at your body." Sherlock announced with an overly loud confidence... designed to cover his shocking nervousness....  
Molly burst into giggles..... "I hope you mean one of the dead ones!" she said and blushed a bright vivid pink.....  
"What other kind would I mean?" Sherlock said in total confusion. "It's a morgue.... aren't they all dead?"  
"Oh you never know..... that's why we tie a bell to the toe of the more healthy looking ones," Molly joked.  
Sherlock looked at Greg with a 'save me... she's totally not what I expected' look on his face.  
Greg realised he was really going to enjoy this.... at least until Mycroft finally caught up with them. "Better hurry up sunshine.... We've lost Mycroft's security but that can't last..."  
Sherlock intoned morbidly...."Bring out your dead Miss Hooper."  
Molly was giggling again .... "It'll be my pleasure, Mr Holmes..."  
"You can call me Sherlock....if I can call you Molly?"  
Greg gawped at the pair of them incredulously as they both started giggling again for no reason whatsoever that he could see....


	78. Temet Nosce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock works alongside Molly and comes to his own very different conclusions about what caused some of the injuries to the body.
> 
> Greg makes a mistake but it opens the way to an honest conversation between himself and Sherlock.
> 
> Alan and Sherlock disagree but end up proving just how well they can get along despite their differences.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temet nosce is Latin and means Know Thyself.
> 
> Tha' knows....you know.  
> Reight....right.  
> Sharpish.... quickly.  
>  
> 
> Blue the track is Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machine.

Greg glanced down as the screen of his phone lit up again then made sure he took another placid sip of his coffee as though he was under no time pressure at all.... He'd sent Sally out to handle the suited agents he knew were still waiting for them and muted the phone so Sherlock wouldn't notice that he was under siege from Mycroft.....  
Normally it'd never work but right now all Sherlock's avid attention was elsewhere.

On the other side of the big old fashioned morgue with its cliinical , rectangular white tiles Molly and Sherlock were working closely together..... Greg could hear a quiet flow of chatty conversation between the pair as he took a sip of his vending machine tea.....  
"We empty and assess the stomach contents as a matter of course...." Molly explained.  
"So you know exactly what meal he ate?" Sherlock asked for specifics.  
"Oh... yes. " Molly's girlish ponytail, with its incongruous flowered band, flicked back as she stood up from bringing out the actual stomach contents..... "A can of cola, some french fries and a cheeseburger with gherkins..... the detailed analysis is over the page."  
Sherlock pulled a face as he read it....recalling how the gherkins and melted cheese of his own middle of the night craving had made his stomach feel. "Insanely high concentrations of fat, sugar and salt....That looks revolting.... " he said honestly, watching Molly tilting the stomach contents around in their container with a morbid interest.  
It was clear that in her own way she lacked the same so called 'normal' reaction to things other people found repellent that he did, which was.... interesting, if a little at odds with her whole persona. He assumed that was the same for him and he didn't _look _like the sort of person who found looking at corpses as engrossing as some people apparently found TV.__

____

Molly listened quietly as much Sherlock's thought process was spoken aloud...  
"A basic takeaway. Not the kind of meal he'd have eaten with a rich client.... I definitely wouldn't eat a heavy meal like that if I knew I'd be having sex later...." He watched Molly's cheeks turn pink.... "Unless he didn't expect to be meeting a client that day.... Maybe it was a sudden arrangement.... perhaps somebody he'd never met before. A new client?.... " He was flicking through Molly's folder at outrageous speed..... suddenly he stopped and looked up.... "I need to see inside his mouth.... If that's alright?"  
"Well he isn't very likely to object...." Molly pointed out truthfully.

Sherlock and Molly were bent so low over the cadaver that their heads were almost touching......  
"As you can see.... lots of bruised gum tissue just behind the teeth and on the roof of the mouth.... and the soft palate is the same....."  
Sherlock looked silently..... when he stood up he was deathly pale. All this bending was hurting his back. It was getting hard to ignore how sore it was...... "I need to see the other side of him...." Sherlock forced himself to be more explicit..." The signs of sexual assault... perineum ...and anus...." He swallowed so hard that for a moment he thought Molly had to have heard him.  
"Ok....Come around this side and we can roll the body. They can be surprisingly heavy...."  
"I can't.... " Sherlock sounded embarassed..... "I can't do that." He stood still .... torn between desperately wanting to be a part of the examination he believed would provide him with proof of his suspicions but unable to risk Neep by doing anything strenuous.

Molly was surprised.... Sherlock had seemed so non squeamish yet now he would have to actually touch the cadaver it suddenly seemed a step too far.  
Greg sat and watched.... knowing full well that Sherlock could'nt take the risk of lifting anything heavy at this stage in his pregnancy... He hoped to see Sherlock rally, think on his feet and suggest a solution to the problem. He was ready to step in if need be but Sherlock seemed aware of his own physical limits.  
Sherlock was thinking fast.....Can't mention the pregnancy. How could he explain? Any excuse has to be believable. Simple is best..... "I hurt my back... recently...." It wasn't an actual lie. He did have persistant hateful backache for the last hour.... "If you turn the body and show me how so I know for another time.... I can try the actual exam after you, if you'll show me what to do first?"  
Molly gave an enthusiastic smile.... that was more like it! "Don't let the fact that he's dead and on a slab put you off doing any examination you need. The post mortem results can break or prove a case..... There's a knack to handling a body as I said.... This is how I do it but you'll probably find a way that's best for you."

Molly rolled the body over with a careful practical care, explaining how she did everything to Sherlock as she did it. She repeated the initial stages of a sexual assault examination before stepping back to let Sherlock look for himself...."You can see the degree of damaged tissue.... the perineum is very swollen.... He was raped more than once."  
"Yes." Sherlock fought to keep the swarming images from the study at bay... closing his eyes to try and wipe them away and begin again.  
"Now we've done the genital exam I wanted to show you this small dark area of bruising on his back... I've not seen anything like that before...."  
"I have ..... Somebody stamped on him with a heel, probably as he was crawling away," Sherlock said. As he straightened up Greg heard him make a quiet pained sound as though standing up had hurt him.... " I've seen all I need to see....Greg, I want to go home."  
"What?" Greg was taken off guard..... "What have you seen Sherlock?" He was on his feet now and over by the table....  
"Nothing..... I want to go home now.... I feel sick....my back hurts." Sherlock repeated stubbornly.  
"Take a minute ...." Greg suggested kindly but Sherlock simply stopped talking , walked away from the corpse , sat down on one of the stools on the other side of the morgue and said no more. 

"I'd best take him home, Molly but thank you for letting him be here today....." Greg had no idea what had just happened and his worried confusion showed in his voice as he thanked Molly on behalf of them both.  
Molly glanced at Sherlock's lowered head before she spoke.... she knew from following the media coverage of the court case what he'd been through. Of course this cadaver would be hard to view given his own violent sexual history..... it must have suddenly hit home. "That's ok. It was my pleasure Greg. Anytime..... " 

She spoke directly to Sherlock next, her voice full of empathy.... "Sherlock, Greg has my number.... anytime you want to come here and lend a hand with the work or even just watch me work and ask questions it'd be lovely to see you .... You can call me or text if you feel like it..... even if you feel like a chat and a coffee. Ok? "  
Sherlock looked up then. He was deathly pale.... "I'm sorry....I really don't feel well." he said. He looked and sounded miserable.  
Molly laid a kind hand on his shoulder...."It's ok....You did really well," she said. 

Sherlock still wasn't talking as they left. Greg watched him pull on his black coat and wrap it around himself with both arms folded over his belly..... he looked fragile..... "You ok? You've gone a bit pale."  
"Alan will be wondering where I am." Sherlock said then clammed up again.  
As soon as Greg let the morgues heavy double doors slam shut behind them he saw Sally try to warn him with a side ways nod of her head before Mycroft's agents were everywhere. Greg saw Sherlock duck his head down and turn his coat collar up to avoid them looking at him.  
Greg had expected to be muscled aside but he found himself right in the middle of their protective throng alongside Sherlock as they made their way towards Greg's car. It almost felt as though the protection was there for him too but that was absurd.... 

"I'm going home in Greg's car," Sherlock may be feeling sick but he was still capable of exuding a stubborn Elite fraility to get his own way. Well aware that Mycroft would have given his agents strict instructions to remain hands off.  
Any hope Greg had of talking to Sherlock about what had just happened as soon as he had the privacy were dashed as soon as they got into his car and Sherlock flipped his hood up and hunched his body away..... resting his head against the glass of the car window .....  
"What's wrong?"  
"Can you please stop talking.... I just want to be quiet." Sherlock kept his eyes closed all the way back but inside his head he was flooded by images from the study. Trying hard not to remember that cornered feeling of helpless pain as Charles had stamped him down to the study floor as he'd tried to crawl away.....

Greg parked outside Speedy's and turned off the engine.  
Sherlock still looked to be fast asleep..... unaware he was home.  
"Wake up Sherlock.....you're home." Greg reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.  
Sherlock gave a loud shocked gasp and recoiled. Instantly fearful..... both arms cradling his head in a protective block and a knee jerking up to shield his body as he cowered away.  
"Sorry.... sorry..... I didn't stop to think...." Greg was furious with himself..... it was such a simple, almost instinctive human gesture to give someone a little shake awake. He'd never stopped to think this could be the result..... "I'm sorry Sherlock!"  
Sherlock stared at him as though they'd never met and he hadn't a clue who Greg was or where they were.....then.... "Don't tell anybody, I did that," he said and lowering his protective block, uncurled himself. He sounded embarrassed.

Greg knew _why _of course but something inside him told him to ask anyway..... "You thought I was him?"__  
Sherlock sat very still..... "No."  
Greg had never pushed Sherlock into talking .... he could'nt have told you why it felt right to do so now. "It looked like you didn't know me."  
"I couldn't work why you weren't Alan..... sometimes the timeline gets blurred when I sleep. That's all."  
"You thought you were back there?" Greg could only imagine how terrifying that had to feel.  
"It happens less than it used too."Sherlock answered." Don't say anything. They'll only fuss about it."

____

"That bruise .... in the morgue.... you knew what caused it straight away?" Greg said as neutrally as he could.  
Sherlock undid his seat belt then sat very still, staring out the window at the grimy London pavement and a bright lone dandelion weed with dirty tattered leaves that was growing in a crack near the wall.... "Charles stamped on my back once..... I was trying to get away. I don't know why. I had nowhere else I could go there.... The bruise looked the same as the one I had."  
Greg tried to find any right words to say but found it impossible... What could you say about an Alpha who'd done what Charles Magnussen had....

"Tosser....it's the perfect word for what Charles is." Sherlock said into the feverish silence of Greg's internal search for words as though he knew exactly what Greg was thinking.  
Greg realised he'd just been deduced.... "That sounds like something Alan'd say."  
"That's because it is. Alan said it. " Sherlock admitted. "In the first two months I was there....at Apple Dore... I didn't know all calls from the house phones were recorded and monitored.... I phoned Mycroft when Charles was sleeping.... begged him to come and get me. Told him I'd kill myself if I had to stay there.... I don't know who went through the call logs but somebody did. Charles was furious. He smashed my violin against the table....." He didn't bother to say what more had happened with Charles, Greg wasn't stupid , he'd fill in the violent blanks..... "When Alan saw it was broken..... he called Charles a tosser under his breath. I don't think he even knew he'd said it aloud. I wasn't meant to hear but I did. .... I laid in bed that night and kept laughing out loud about it..... Tosser." He said the word with relish as though it was still the best word he'd ever heard.  
Greg watched Sherlock's mouth curve up in a sphinx like smile.  
"I liked Alan better than any one else there after that." Sherlock said.

"Molly was wrong about something..... " Sherlock made no effort to leave Greg's car even though Mycroft's agents were gathered on the pavement by the car now and looked to be having a tense conversation with somebody via a mobile phone. "The marks inside his mouth weren't caused by a ball gag.... oral sex with an Elite Alpha when the knots are semi hard rubs your palate and right behind your teeth raw.... It also really kills your jaw....." Sherlock shoved open the card door and got out..... "Get them out of my way! Idiots." he snapped as the journalists yelled and Mycroft's agents clustered round him.  
Greg watched Sherlock storm moodily down the pavement amid the usual bedlam......  
There was inner steel there, hidden behind the impossibly beautiful face and a history of brutal torment that Greg knew was still affecting him.

By the time Greg climbed the stairs up to Sherlock's home there was no sign of him.... the door to the bedroom was firmly shut.  
"Where's he been Greg?" Alan wanted answers that explained Sherlock's moody stride past him and the slammed bedroom door and he wanted them now.  
"St Barts hospital.... A friend of mine works there in the mortuary. I took him to meet her and see a body she's working on."Greg was honest.  
"Are you _fucking _kidding me? You took him in to see a murdered body? Without telling me? Why?"__  
" Omega escorts.... There's been a string of them found....raped and beaten to death by Elite Alpha."  
"And you thought he needed to see that did you? Sod it all, Greg.. what the Hell were you thinking?" Alan was openly losing patience!

__

" He's a natural detective!" Greg knew Alan well enough to tell he was beginning to be really angry. He should let it go but somehow he could'nt.... Sherlock's inate ability deserved to be recognised and used if that was what Sherlock wanted.... "The body didn't upset him. You know how well he handles seeing a crime scene, even a nasty one.... The injuries triggered him..."  
Alan had a irate set look to his jaw and he was coming close to shouting volume wise.... "He's bloody pregnant tha' knows!"  
"I know..... I took as much care of him as I could." Greg raised his own voice for the first time.  
"Stop blaming Greg.....and stop shouting!" Sherlock yelled at Alan from inside the bedroom.

Greg watched Riddick stride to the bedroom door and fling it wide..... "Since you've summat to say to me now after all you can get yourself up of that bed and into the bathroom sharpish!.... God fucking knows how many millions of fucking corpse germs are all over you!" Alan disappeared into the bathroom and Greg heard him banging around angrily before the sound of water filling the bath began.  
Sherlock appeared in the doorway to shout back.... He he was in no mind to cooperate, Greg could see a bravado defiance on his face...."I'm not an idiot! I wore protective clothes and fucking gloves!" He scoffed at Alan''s ignorance... "It's a dead body in a professionally run morgue not an outbreak of Ebola!"  
"Yeah? You feel like taking that chance when you're pregnant do you?... Did you touch that body or not?" Alan demanded a clear answer and the low authoritative tone of his voice had Greg worried enough to move closer in case Sherlock needed his help.  
Sherlock didn't seem worried by Alan''s anger or towering proximity at all and neither had he moved from the doorway to do as he was asked...."Yes I touched it but...." Sherlock began.....  
"Get yourself in that bath now before I fill it up and put you in clothes and all!" Alan was fuming enough to do just that if pushed.  
Sherlock stood there for a minute.... facing Alan down wordlessly despite the size and strength difference between them.... then.... "You are acting like a total jerk!" he said witheringly. "How am I ever going to be a consulting detective unless I can look at a body and a crime scene!"

Greg had no idea what a consulting detective was....  
"A bloody _what _? " Alan asked fiercely. He hadn't a clue either.__  
"A consulting detective. I'm going to be one. When Neep's born" Sherlock stood his ground.  
"First I've bloody heard of it!" Alan said bluntly. "What kind of a job is that?"  
There was a change in Riddick's tone that Greg could'nt pinpoint. Less angry more bemused....  
"It's a job that doesn't exist.....yet." Sherlock said. "Not until I do it. I'll be the only person doing it in the world...." There was real need to be understood in his voice.  
"And that involves looking at dead bodies in a morgue does it?" Alan's opinion of that was impossible to read from his voice alone  
"Yes....and actual crime scenes. I can't solve everything using photos...." Sherlock held back any of the savagely flippant answers he would have made to anyone else and let the honesty of his reply plead for him. _Please try and understand. You don't like crime scenes or bodies but I do.... I can be good at this, I know I can.... _....__

Alan stood silent.

"You'll be having a lot of showers after work then so.....I'm not big on the smell of formeldehyde as an aphrodisiac.... " Riddick sounded reluctantly resigned to the idea.  
Sherlock said calmly.... "If I have too."  
"Aye you'll have too." Riddick said firmly.  
"Starting now?" Sherlock checked the terms of their new deal.  
"Starting now...." Alan said. "I'll not be giving you a kiss or owt till you smell like yourself again."  
Sherlock smiled knowingly. Why would Alan mention kissing unless the thought of them doing it was in his mind...."I might need help help getting in and out the bath...." The hint was obvious....  
Alan cleared his throat awkwardly....aware of Greg stood behind him. "Aye ....I'll see Greg out and fetch you a towel in," he muttered.....

Greg wished it was that easy with Mycroft....


	79. En-garde.... pret...  allez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg sees the other more difficult side to Alan just before his day goes from bad to worse.  
> Aric Weber tries to reach his mate Aprielle as the Omega tries to recover from his injury .....  
> Mycroft has Greg bought to the Diogenes club...  
> Aric opens up about his own history with Aprielle and finds the support he needs from Sherlock  
> and Alan ....  
> Angered by the attack on his beloved bond mate he breaks Bond Court law, makes a revelation he shouldn't and names one of the witnesses Milne intends to use against Sherlock.  
> The name couldn't come as more of a shock...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> en-garde, pret, allez... The words used to begin a fencing bout.  
> épée.... One of the three swords commonly used in fencing .
> 
> Suit Porn has definitely become a thing! 
> 
> If readers feel like checking it out.... Shattered section 4 chapter 35 shows CAM torturing Lauther. Is he dead? Have to wait a few more updates before finding out! 
> 
> The track is Heaven Before All Hell Breaks Loose by Plan B.  
>  

Alan watched Greg fasten his jacket.... he'd been waiting for the chance to say something. "Don't take him out again without letting me know he's going Greg..... "  
Greg wasn't surprised . There'd been a whole other look on Alan's face since they'd moved out of Sherlock's sight. "You can't keep him shut up in here Alan....."  
"I don't plan on it. I'm not that way and even I wanted him safe at home till the birth there's fuck all chance of it with the trial."  
Greg found himself reacting... "He needs a career. If you try and make him stay home looking after a baby all day long he'll lose his mind!"  
"Sure about that are you? Looks to me like you're getting his personality confused in with yours. He'll be more maternal minded than you maybe, seeing as he couldn't be with Aleksander before ... " Alan kept his voice down but was clearly pissed off enough to bite back and aim to hurt. " I'm all for him having summat to use his mind on....If it's crime and corpses so be it, I'll not hold him back... God knows I'm not his match in brains, I don't fool myself however much he likes me..... Normally I'd have nowt to say about him working with you. This is different. He's pregnant and he's not in the best health with it. You've sound judgement Greg and bloke to bloke I think well enough of you.... but you've not had the advanced protection training I have.... All it takes is for someone with a mind to it to set up a scuffle and make sure he takes a bang in the belly.... If owt happened to him or to the little one and I lose either of them, when I could have stopped it by being there....." He took a deep breath as he heard the vibration of uncontrolled emotion in his voice. Did he need to say it clearer than he had?  
"Then what?" Greg asked although he already sensed the answer coming he wondered would Alan be blunt enough to say it aloud given that he'd be threatening a policeman.  
"Then I'd likely put you in intensive care over it and that'd fuck us both up." Riddick said.

A stern faced Greg Lestrade left Baker Street and was just in time to see his car being lifted onto the back of a tow truck.....  
"Oi!..... OI!.... Put my bloody car back...."  
"No can do mate....." The neon coated Alpha guy stood on the pavement waved a hand to indicate they could swing Greg's car sideways onto the flat bed. He spoke into his walkie talkie..."She's on. Ravi you can secure her now...."  
"Stop right there.... I'm a detective at NSY....that's my car..... " Greg fumbled in his trouser pocket searching for his badge.....  
The guy stopped for a minute and gave Greg the sort of disbelieving 'but you're Omega' stare that Greg had encountered a lot in his early days on the force..... "I haven't got all day here.... Where's your badge if you're a copper."  
"Right here".....Greg's hand came up empty..... SOD IT ALL. He'd left his badge in his coat on the front seat of his car! "It's in the car.... put it back down and I'll show you....."  
"Course you will love..... Pull the other one, it's got bells on.... Forget the parking meter did you? Give your Alpha a ring and he'll come and fetch you!" The man said patronisingly.  
Greg was seriously tempted to arrest him even if he had no charges he could make stick .....but his sodding cuffs were in the car too.

Sherlock and Alan would probably be halfway through their 'bath' by now.... Greg couldn't bring himself to disturb them even if they'd answer the door.  
He decided he'd rather walk than face a pissed off and sexually frustrated Alan.  
Greg was fuming as he paced towards the tube..... of all the ignorant , moronic bloody Alpha to meet the guy who lifted his car took the medal for sexist twat of the day .

The walk took twenty minutes in the heat of what was fast becoming a unseasonably warm spring day.  
Greg stood among a crowd of tourists waiting to cross and cursed under his breath as he was shoulder bumped by a man walking the other way.....  
When he reached the underground he was grateful to head down the cream steps into the shady depths.... and was in line for the busy ticket machines when he realised his pocket had been picked and his wallet and mobile phone swiped.... probably by the man who'd made sure to bump into him at the crossing.  
"Yo man....if you aren't buying move out the way!"A voice shouted. 

Greg stood over by the wall and called Sally using the payphone.... only to go straight to her voicemail. He'd exactly £1.50 on him in loose change.  
After he'd left a voicemail the phone kept his change. Now he'd 50p.  
He put the last coin in to call Mycroft....  
" Mycroft Holmes office...." An upper class ladies voice said with well modulated precision....  
"Hello....I need to speak to Mycroft Holmes ..... "  
"I'm sorry Mr Holmes is unavailable at present.... Is he expecting your call?"  
"No....he isn't but...." Greg tried to explain, all too conscious of the money he'd put in going down....  
"Mr Holmes has back to back meetings of some importance.... if you leave a number I can ensure he gets it ....."  
"I can't do that.... "Greg cursed the light fingered loser who'd lifted his wallet and phone.....  
"You can't leave a contact number?" The Elite accent was really starting to sound frosty now..... she clearly thought Greg was dubious.  
"No I can't ..... Myroft knows me.... My names Greg....." Greg tried his best...."My wallet and phone just got robbed.... I've no money on me..... " There was a clunk as Greg's money dropped and his call ended abruptly..... "Bugger!" Greg swore. He hadn't even had time to give his whereabouts.....  
On the bench next to him a middle aged woman who was cramming a slice of takeaway pizza into her mouth turned and stared at him.....  
"I don't suppose you'd let me use your phone?" Greg felt humiliated just asking.....  
Her only answer was a blinkless stare and another mouthful of pizza ...... It was fast becoming one of those days when being an Omega felt like being a second class citizen.

Left with no choice but to walk back to 221B and interrupt Alan and Sherlock in the middle of whatever, Greg's mood was bleak as he came back out of the tube station back into the noise and day light.....  
He'd just rounded the corner into Baker Street again when Mycroft's familiar black car idled alongside him...... he was relieved to get in.  
"How did you know I was here?" Greg asked the driver..... there was no sign of Mycroft but then he'd back to back meetings of course.."  
"Mr Holmes gave very precise instructions as to your whereabouts , Sir......"  
Mycroft's claim to work for the government in some minor capacity was looking less likely by the second given his ability to locate Greg at anytime and despatch chauffeur driven cars to collect him. Beginning to feel like an extra in a Bond movie Greg poured himself a generous scotch and water and only noticed that the car wasn't headed towards NSY when it turned in whole other direction......"Whoa..... Where are we going?"  
"The Diogenes Club , Sir..... Mr Holmes is expecting you." 

The hallway was punctuated by alcoves each one containing a plinth and a bust the eyes of which seemed to follow him as though wondering what the Hell a Commoner was doing here among the Elite ....  
Greg didn't blame them for that... he was starting to wonder himself.  
"If you can avoid talking if you please , Sir.... this is a mute corridor."  
"A what?" Greg saw one elderly man in a dark suit weaving his way along the corridor..... he looked like he had a foot over deaths threshold already, the hand holding his walking cane looked skeletal. When he heard Greg speak he shot him a furious stare. Suddenly Greg realised what everyday noise was missing.... conversation. He hadn't heard any voices since the entrance lobby..... everyone they'd passed by had been silent, heads buried in The Times. "Hey... I can talk once I'm inside the rooms?"  
Greg had kept his voice down but even so the butler looked aghast to be asked a question he'd have to reply too aloud .  
"Of course Sir.... Mr Holmes has his own private suite ."  
All this whispering was starting to feel more than a little insane in Greg's opinion.... A door opened up ahead and Greg recognised the florid faced blonde man who hurried out. He'd been the Speaker in Parliament before retiring. He gave Greg a look of total surprise as though he couldn't imagine what a common Omega could be doing there as he passed by.  
Greg wasn't enjoying being made to feel jarringly out of place....  
The butler stopped outside the door the blonde man had just emerged from.

"Mycroft?" Greg didn't want to just walk on in when there was no reply but when he pushed the door aside he could see his stolen wallet and phone sat on top of the desk....  
Mycroft had his mobile phone to his ear. He looked as immaculate as ever in a crisply laundered shirt with his waistcoat done up and his sleeves turned up.  
There was more polite Elite formality behind the voice than Greg had heard in a long time as Mycroft gestured for him to take a seat and carried on speaking to whoever was on the other end of the call.  
Greg was surprised to find being treated as some kind of acquaintance who could be kept waiting irritated him on some level he didn't fully understand.  
As soon as the call ended Mycroft stood up smoothly and came around the front of the desk to lean against it. "My apologies. The call was urgent.... As you see your personal property has been retrieved and the individuals who stole it are now in custody..."  
"Thanks for that...." Greg was grateful but still pissed off it had happened at all. "About Sherlock.... You have to be annoyed .... I've already had Alan in my ear about it back at Baker Street. It won't happen again without letting you know first but he needs chances to see a crime scene and that includes the victims Mycroft... like he says he can't solve everything from just a photo ." Greg was determined to stand up for Sherlock's right to have the career he knew the Elite Omega wanted. . 

. _Oh I'm quite aware of the threat Alan Riddick made. He and I will be discussing that very issue shortly believe me. ___  
"You put me to not inconsiderable trouble, Gregory ." _I was forced to scramble a roof top SWAT team _"Of course my brother has an anarchic streak that simply won't allow him to take a sensible course of action when a less predictable one can be more exciting..... "__  
_You could have answered my texts or calls. You worried me and put yourself at risk of harm alongside Sherlock, Gregory and that simply won't do. Not at all. Especially not now we've held each other close and shared the same bed ___  
"Sherlock agreed to come. I never let him out my sight." Greg noticed any pretence that Mycroft was merely an insignificant member of the Government has been dropped. What the heck was his actual job though?  
"Sherlock is in no position to agree or disagree." Mycroft raised his eyebrows. " I know my little brother.... he is profoundly bored of being physically restricted by his pregnancy. He always had a liking for the macabre.....even the goulish...... a trip to a morgue in your company would be irresistible for the novelty value alone." He was stood over a seated Gregory now..... admiring the flashes of amber in the other man's eyes..... maintaining the more dominant Alpha stance comfortably.  
"Novelty?" Greg had had more than enough of being patronised today. "What part of trying to find a murderer do you think is a novelty?" He deepened his voice and let his annoyance at all the bullshit endemic in an Alpha heavy society show in his voice .  
Sat at this level it was hard not to steal a glance at the front of Mycroft's suit pants..... was it his fevered imagination or were they tented? He stole a longer glance....  
Was arguing turning Mycroft on? It was an easy theory to test.... "You have me bought here by some lackey when I should be back at work.... Talk about arrogant.... You don't ask.... You just assume...." Greg let Mycroft see him looking this time....and that tenting was definitely looking bigger.

Mycroft took a moment to truly appreciate the wonderfully appealing signs of arousal in Gregory's face and voice..... "You're a detective inspector Gregory..... I'd expect you of all people to know how to act on solid evidence when its right in front of you...."  
Greg was on his feet now so close they were almost touching chests.... "Oh, you think you know it all..." He reached out a hand and tugged Mycroft's tie loose of the confines of his waistcoat, the fine silk surpisingly weighty in his hand as he caressed the end of it as though it was something else a whole lot more sexual..... "Always so formally dressed..... Every button done up..... Never as much as a crease in your posh cotton...."

Mycroft swallowed and raised a hand to slide around Greg's neck, guiding him a step closer with the instinctual Elite grasp over the nape of his neck until his solidly clad feet stood in between Mycroft's expensive hand lasted brogues....."I believe that hand should be lower down Detective Inspector."  
Greg leant in closer, lips close to Mycroft's as he let his hand trace downwards over the flat front of Mycroft's waistcoat button by button until they felt the warmed metal of his belt buckle. He tugged at it ..... "Is this low enough?" he asked huskily and felt Mycroft's surprisingly strong fingers catch round his wrist.....  
"Not quite....." Mycroft's intent stare was locked on Greg. With a firm hand he took Gregory's palm lower......  
Greg had been wondering about it for months... now it was right there. Semi hard under all that suited wool..... The length and heated thickness filled Greg's hand as he filled his hand and rubbed, fingers on the heavy bulge of Mycroft's cock....  
The hand that was holding his wrist let go..... Greg felt the back of it brush against his own fly , checking he was hard before Mycroft flipped it over and let the ends of his fingers trace the stiffened tissue beneath the regretably cheap cloth before he cupped Greg....  
Greg let go of that big bulge and went for the buckle, yanking leather through metal and going for the zip so he could pull Mycroft's cock free straight away. That hot slightly clammy skin felt incredible in his firm hands as he stroked it roughly .  
There was a second when Mycroft stood still then he tore Gregory's own button and zipper open and dug his hand inside to close around Greg's cock.... "God yes!" Gregory's response was gratifyingly vocal as he put his other arm up around Mycroft's neck and leant in.. but then so was Mycroft's own as both men locked lips and moved their hands with feverish urgency ... .

Aric Weber found himself wishing he'd never given up smoking as he applied another patch to the skin of his forearm and smoothed it into place.  
In the kitchen of the safe house Aprielle was struggling to manage one handed.....  
"I can come in and help...." Aric winced as there was a stream of furious Filipino followed by a loud crash as Aprielle hurled the wok at the back of the cooker.... "Aprielle? I'm coming in...."  
When Aric opened the door Aprielle was sat on the food covered floor cradling his bandaged hand to his chest. With his head down Aric couldn't see his face.  
"Go away, Aric....." The bright pink ends of Aprielle's dark hair looked faded.  
"I can help .... Are you hurt?"  
"Go to work , Aric. Leave me on my alone." Aprielle said sadly.

Aric checked his watch , pressed his thumb on the finger of 221B.....and kept it there.  
It took several long minutes before Alan appeared, wearing a zipped sweatshirt with no t-shirt underneath; to open the door and ask him in and promptly left him alone in the sitting room before vanishing into the bedroom to 'fetch Sherlock'.  
"Aric's here..."  
"Shit... I completely forgot he was coming today!" Sherlock was laid on the bed trying to wriggle into jeans that he couldn't quite reach well enough to pull up given his skin was still slightly damp...he hadn't bothered with pants.  
Alan swallowed down the fierce desire that took him again at the sight of the Omega's lean bare thighs and knelt down to help... "I'll make the tea... He seems a bit out of sorts." Alan reluctantly fastened Sherlock's fly instead of burying his face in the exposed v of skin that was all he could see now...he planted a kiss on Sherlock's zipped fly instead and felt Sherlock's fingers on the nape of his neck in a soft caress  
"I hope everything is alright with them, " Sherlock said.

"Sorry, I was having a nap... "Sherlock hoped he didn't look too like he'd just had a cock in his mouth ....his lips still felt swollen but maybe that felt more obvious that it looked?  
He took the black and chrome chair, trying to curl legs and all into the seat as he usually did , only to find he couldn't quite fit comfortably no matter how he twisted. Neep felt like he'd moved lower and wedged himself sideways. Sherlock gave him a gentle poke to encourage him to move and was attacked by a fiesty flurry of kicking for his trouble.  
Riddick hid his smile at the disconcerted look of surprise on Sherlock's face.....  
Alan did most of the initial talking...... taking Aric's coat and tossing it over a chair ..... "We forgot you were coming," he said by way of explanation as he went through to put the kettle on.  
Sherlock took a good deductive look at Aric. Definite signs things weren't great. Coffee stain on the left cuff... Shadows under his eyes and an indefinable look of worry. He felt a little ashamed of the emotive based assumption of that last deduction but since it was true, let it stand.  
"We agreed a time did we not?" Aric said calmly. He was aware of Sherlock's unique gaze staying on him as he spread out his paperwork . They'd clearly been having sex before he rang the door bell. "Shall we begin?" he said.  
"How's Aprielle? " Sherlock asked instead .  
Aric looked up...." Depressed " he admitted. "He is still in pain. He has yet to settle into the safe house. He misses our home and and of course the cats.... It's impossible to bring them here... "  
Sherlock knew what that was like.... Missing home and family. Feeling alone in a strange place.... Being in pain. None of this would have happened if Aric had never taken his case... "I'm sorry," he said guiltily .  
"What's wrong? " Alan knew Sherlock almost too well. That sad note in the lad's voice always twisted his heart.  
Aric set the paperwork aside for the second time..."You are not too blame Sherlock. This is not the first time Aprielle has been attacked because of what I do... There will always be those Elite who lash out verbally or physically. Aprielle understands that risk. He will heal... he misses our cats that is all. They are like children to us both."  
Alan took a seat on the couch and wasn't surprised when Sherlock moved to join him. "Billy was the same... we'd a dog... Skully."  
Sherlock said nothing... Alan so rarely spoke about his past bond..but he seemed to understand how Aric was feeling about this enough to share his own story.... ..  
Aric laid out the makings of a pipe... to keep himself busy. "We were not able to have children, adoption proved to be impossible due to my work in bond severance, I have annoyed a great many of those with significant influence. Block after block was placed in our way.... The cats began slowly but with each one I saw him begin to heal... Now they are there in a cattery and we are here...It's difficult.."  
"Are you sure the cats can't travel. Mycroft can arrange a lot of things, "Sherlock said.  
"They would need a course of injections before they can travel... and crating them would stress them considerably. All but two were born feral.... Handling distresses them although all we have owned for sometime will permit Aprielle to stroke them. With his hand still unhealed I thought it best if they remained until we can return." They rarely argued but they had done so over this.  
Alan gave Sherlock a mug of tea since the lad hadn't moved to pick one up.... He'd not met him yet but Weber's Omega must have no small measure of guts. If he hadn't taken on the bitch of an assassin at the front door it was likely both Aric and Aprielle would be dead.... but Aprielle Weber had got her with an épée into the shoulder and lost his fingers in the doorway struggle to keep control of the blade. She wouldn't have seen that coming from an Omega... If she'd done her research she'd have found out Aric and Aprielle had both fenced at competition level.... "RSPCA would have a lot of cats needing foster care wouldn't they?" he said thoughtfully.  


"Court procedure now changes..... as your legally recognised Alpha, Charles has the dominant legal right to try and prove why the bond should remain in place..... his aim of course is to have you returned to his physical care....."  
Alan snorted at the word 'care'.  
"Traditionally the Alpha takes precedence in matters relating to bond severance...."  
"Even though it's my wish to sever the bond?" Sherlock sounded worried.  
"Even so..... Charles could speak first if he so chose..... he has elected to allow his witnesses to speak first instead. An Alpha accused of violence or sexual abuse will commonly adopt that ploy.... by doing so he hopes to lay down a credible store of witnesses against you and mitigate his violence." Aric laid a sheet of paper before Sherlock.... " A surprise new witness was added to the list today. As you know legally I cannot tell you his name... " As he spoke he wrote two words on a piece of paper and laid it on the table before rotating it towards Sherlock. This particular shock stood a good chance of unsettling his witness and giving Charles Magnussen an advantage he was not prepared to cede the man whom he knew stood behind the attack upon Aprielle .  
Sherlock leant forward to look without touching the paper..... "Oh shit!" he said.  
"Who is it?" Alan couldn't see clearly.  
"It's Lauther....." Sherlock said with quiet disbelief.


	80. Talk It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Alan find therapy difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bumping uglies.... having sex.
> 
> Blue the track is Silence by Grace Carter.

"Sherlock we're gonna be late lad...."  
Sherlock didn't make a move to get off the couch.... "Look," he said breathlessly.  
Alan watched as Sherlock balanced a book on top of his bare bump. Instantly Neep booted it off.... Sherlock replaced it with the tv remotes.... and the exact same thing happened again.  
"Little personality already hasn't he?" Alan said proudly.  
Sherlock smiled as he put the book aside , pulled his t-shirt down and accepted Alan's outstretched hand for some help as he got up off the couch. His back was still aching.  
"Ok .... Do you need a coat. It looks warm out...." Alan waited for Sherlock to answer, keys jiggling in his hand.  
"No.... just that grey hoodie of yours ," Sherlock said. He felt a lot hotter all the time lately. The hoodie was baggy enough to hide his bump from the waiting mob of journalists who constantly waited outside in the street.

The car was struck in traffic.... Alan watched Sherlock pull a face and slide a hand behind the small of his back. "You alright?"  
"It's my back." Sherlock admitted.  
"Maybe Lars can help with it."  
Sherlock hoped so..... but they had an appointment with Rob Hardcock first and then an antenatal with Lars before Mycroft and John came over to talk about tomorrow's court session...... only then could he get the time he needed to find out what Mycroft knew about Lauther.

"Alan ..... Sherlock.... Nice to see you again." Rob was always friendly and welcoming. "Take a seat on couch.... Let me know if the noise of the ceiling fan bothers you. It's a little loud in this room.... " He noticed how closely they both chose to sit, that was always a good sign.... "So how have things been with you both?" Alan?"  
"Aye good.... "  
The usual one or two word reply..... however often they came here both Sherlock and Alan took a while to begin talking, Rob was used to it by now.... "How about things with you Sherlock?" The Elite Omega looked pale today.  
They'd never been in this room before. Sherlock was finding the couch less than ideal, it was slouchy and soft and he could have done with a cushion to put behind his lower back..... plus the car journey had left him feeling a bit sick which was weird because normally he never got travel sick. It took him a minute to realise he'd been asked a question..... Shit What had just been said? He sped backwards through the conversation.... "The fans a bit noisy, " he said and was surprised when Alan shot him a concerned glance. "What?" he asked Alan.  
"Nothing lad," Alan said. Sherlock's mood was all over the bloody place today.

Rob moved to get things started... "So last time we chatted you'd been trying the Moan Groan Game and you weren't finding that really worked for either of you..... so we'd agreed to try giving a more standard vocal clue if you're enjoying a touch or not. How has that worked ?"  
Alan answered..... " That's been going better. A lot better than that daft moaning thing."  
Rob saw from his notes that Sherlock had found it impossible to show his pleasure with a typically sexual moan, he was hoping Sherlock might have found saying if he liked something was more achievable. "That's good Alan.... Sherlock, how have you been feeling about simply letting Alan know what feels good when you like something he is doing?"  
Sherlock sounded tired.... " I'm trying. It doesn't feel natural."

"Can you talk a little more about that feeling that it isn't natural?" Rob tried to persuade Sherlock to open up about his feelings.  
Sherlock fidgeted.... "I'm not used to it...."  
"How'd you mean?" Alan cut in.  
Rob hadn't expected Alan to ask Sherlock that directly but hopefully the Omega would feel more comfortable answering Alan.  
"It's not about you." Sherlock found explaining difficult. He knew the answer would upset Alan.  
"How's it _not me _when I'm the one in bed with you?" Alan said gruffly.__  
"Because it just isn't...." Sherlock tried to shut the conversation down.  
Rob saw frustration on Alan's face and stepped in..... "I think Alan wants to understand what you are trying to say, Sherlock..... Can you expand a bit more so he can know what's happening?"  
Sherlock shook his head resentfully.... "He already _knows _.... he just doesn't want to _admit _he knows."____  
"If I knew I wouldn't be ruddy asking you to tell me, would I lad? That makes sod all sense...." Riddick felt stupid. Why wasn't he getting what Sherlock was saying?  
"Lets try and keep calm, low voices...." Rob wasn't about to let this disintegrate into a disagreement.  
Riddick shot him a glare. 'I'm not shouting." 

_____ _

"What's going on?" Alan asked Sherlock again and this time Rob noticed he kept his voice down clearly trying to prove he had control of this.  
"You watched me _all _the time. So you know." Sherlock said.__  
"Aye.... i saw _that _..... but I'm not him, I'd not hurt you." Alan protested.__  
Rob noticed how both of them avoided naming the rape and brutality Sherlock had lived through in explicit terms.  
"I know that." Sherlock hated this level of exposure.... there was nowhere left to hide. "I always tried not to show I felt anything.... with Charles..... I mean sometimes I _did _... but I never wanted too. You know that...."  
Alan's face changed as he realised exactly what he was being told .... He remembered all too well how Sherlock had reacted whenever Charles had forced him into pleasure Sherlock didn't want to feel. __

_____ _

____

Rob tried to guide the conversation for them seeing they needed help .... "Alan, you didn't realise that Sherlock is still struggling to vocalise in his sexual relationship with you because of what happened within his bond?"  
Alan cleared his throat but despite that his voice was still gruff with emotion. "No..... I should have known because I've seen. Sherlock's right about that.... Thick bastard that I am I just didn't put it all together like I ought to have."  
"You aren't thick!" Sherlock was passionate about this. "Don't call yourself that. It's not true."  
"You think?" Alan rejected the appeal. " You're not wrong. I know .... I know better than anyone else what went on..... I bloody watched you and him! I don't know how you can sit there and say I'm _not _a bloody idiot for not working out what's getting in between you and me?"__  
Sherlock looked like he wanted to cry.... "Nothing is in between you and me! Just because I can't be normal still doesn't make it your fault.... I have to change. You're just fine!"  
Rob's injection was softly spoken.... " Neither of you are at fault."  
Alan was openly belligerent as he spoke to Rob. "How'd you work that out?" Sherlock's the victim .... I'm the bastard kept putting him back into a fucked up situation where he got hurt ...."  
"Oh my God!" Sherlock interjected. "I've told you before I don't blame you for that .... for any of that.... I wasn't bonded to you! If I was none of this would have happened! I'd have been happy! "  
Alan put his head in his hands. "Jesus Christ." He looked fraught.

____

"Why are you so affected by what Sherlock just said Alan?" Rob said.  
"Because he's letting me off the sodding hook.... I did wrong by him. I hefted him into rooms and shut the door on him when I knew what was going to happen soon as that bastard got in there with him ..... I played my sodding part and acting like I didn't isn't going to help him heal!"  
Sherlock stared at Alan....opened his mouth to say something , then closed it and stayed silent.  
"Just say it!" Alan said tersely. "For fucks sake, lad."  
"Why? So you can blame yourself even more?" Sherlock snapped. "Because you feeling guilty is really going to add so much that's positive to the situation!"  
Alan gave him a long level look.... "Maybe I need to feel it. If we plan on being a couple and raising Neep then maybe you need to sodding say it out loud and I need to hear it all the way through!"  
Rob connected the dots and looked at Sherlock's middle.  
Sherlock stared at Alan..... "See _now _you're an idiot! Now you've said I'm pregnant when Mycroft said nobody is meant to know!" He was angry.__  
"Well we can't fucking hide it forever! There's consequences need facing for you and for me!" Alan's rising tension showed.  
"What consquences? I thought you were happy I'm pregnant!" Sherlock shouted.  
"I _am _sodding happy you're pregnant! Whose being a ruddy idiot now? You know I'm over the fucking moon about it!" Alan roared back.... then got up off the couch and walked away to the wall.__

_____ _

There was an oppressive silence..... Alan sat back down and broke it. "I'm sorry I raised my voice. You have to know Sherlock, I've said it over and over. You and the baby..... Aleksander too. A family with you... it's everything. "  
Sherlock was tearing his wet tissue into sodden fragments..... "See.... this is why talking is a bad idea. Now we're both unhappy and nothing is any better. It's pointless," he said.  
Alan shook his head..... "I'm a grown man Sherlock ..... I can take a few harsh words if you need to say them...."  
"This is stupid.... I don't want to say stuff that hurts you and you don't want to see me hurt...." Sherlock said bitterly.  
"That's not all it's about..... " Alan reached out and took hold of Sherlock's hand, wet tissue and all..... "I want to help you heal.... if that means picking the scab off like Weber does in court then maybe we both need you to do that...."  
" I don't want to do that." Sherlock shrugged helplessly. "I love you!"  
Alan sighed. "Aye and I love you. We got a chance here to talk it all out with Rob helping us mend things..... I just think we should take it, that's all."  
Sherlock shook his head. Nope.

"Alan.... you look upset .... Can you share what you're feeling?" Rob suggested.  
"I want to talk.... Sherlock doesn't.... so that's it.... not happening is it. " Alan sounded defeated and Rob saw Sherlock look at his lover.  
"You feel as though your viewpoint isn't being given equal weight?" Rob asked.  
"Do you see owt changing?" Alan muttered.  
Sherlock defended himself.... "I thought we came here to talk about how things are getting better....."  
"Aye and I've not said they aren't..... I've said things have been better. First thing I said when Rob asked me was things have been good." Alan protested.  
"Good!" Sherlock said snappily. "Because I think they've been a lot better too!"  
" Oh aye, clearly they've never been better now we can get all this _shite _out in the open without a worry ! " This conversation was bloody mental.... There was a pause then Riddick grinned suddenly.... "So you still fancy me then?"__  
"Yes!" Sherlock grinned tearfully back. "Like you don't know I do..."  
"That's alright then... seeing as I still fancy the bones of you.... we can make do between us.... bumping uglies and the rest of it." Alan said tenderly .  
Sherlock bumped his shoulder against Alan's own lightly....aware of his own strength Alan made sure to give a gentle shoulder bump back .

____

"Just hold on a minute...." Rob said.... "Lets, try and stay focused for a minute longer and resolve this ... Alan you said that if Sherlock doesn't want to talk about things then it won't happen?"  
"I bring it up.... he shuts it down." Alan wasn't happy saying it now he had his arm round behind Sherlock and things seemed that bit better. Somehow it felt like a complaint. "I don't want to stress him over it.... he's enough bloody going on as it is."  
"I can understand that..... just one more minute.... Sherlock do you think that is true? That you tend too close down the conversation when Alan tries to discuss it?"  
Sherlock said carefully..... "Yes but not because I blame him. I'm done with talking about it..... At what point do I just get to move on? " he turned to look at Alan.... "You know you do it too? You never talk about Billy.... just a word here and there....."  
"Billy was your mate Alan?" Rob approached this subject carefully.  
"For fucks sake...." Alan said wearily. "What's this got to do with owt?  
"See you don't want to talk about some stuff either," Sherlock said. He appealed to Rob... "I've only ever seen a photo of Billy by accident. We're naming the baby after him and I'd never even seen his face before we went to Yorkshire.... "  
Alan dug into his jeans pocket, flipped open his wallet pulled out a photo and put onto Sherlock's thigh..... "There's a tin of photos back at the cabin. My Aunt has some boxes in her attic.... kitchen stuff he'd bought. Some CDs. A painting Leanne did for us...." He sounded pissed off.  
Sherlock's pale finger tips held the very edge of the photo so it didn't slide off his thigh but he avoided looking.... "I don't want to do it like this..... like I forced you into it. I want you to talk about him if you want too. He's a part of your life." 

When Alan didn't say anything Rob intervened.... "Alan can you understand why Sherlock may need to know a little about Billy."  
Alan's head jerked up as though he'd been poked.... "Aye."  
"But?" Sherlock could hear a 'but' in Alan's voice. He coudn't work out why....  
Alan's mouth twisted as he saw he was being deduced... "Now't worth working out, Sherlock.... Just summat else too feel guilty about that I can't bloody fix."  
"He had cancer .... that's not your fault...." Sherlock said.  
"Aye but did loving me make his life any better? If he hadn't bonded a piss poor Alpha like me he would'nt been shut out of his own family because of it.... I should have sodding well been there and not chasing what I wanted in the Army...... If I'd spent more fucking heats at home with him I could have bloody seen summat wasn't right with him before it got down to what it did!" Alan stopped before he broke down and dropped his head down, shoulders heaving as he took a deep shuddering breath.....  
"It's not your fault! He was sick you said so yourself.... and _he _would'nt have changed it Alan!"__  
Ridding looked around and said hopelessly.... "You know that for sure do you?"  
Sherlock put his arm round Alan's shoulders and leant in so close their faces touched ... "Yes because _I _wouldn't change what happened to me.... not if it meant we never met!"__


	81. Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Alan have an antenatal appointment with Lars  
> Things don't go as well as they hoped.... 
> 
> Neep remains blissfully unconcerned... while Alan struggles to do the same... 
> 
> Mycroft evaluates his past actions towards Sherlock and tries to do better....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue the track is Wouldn't Be Love by RITUAL

"Sorry .... this will be cold. "Lars squirted cold thick gel onto Sherlock's skin.... aware of the slight tremour to the Omega's slim thighs that he could see already. "Has the baby been active, Sherlock?" He angled the wand around....  
"Yes. When he kicks I can really feel it now," Sherlock answered but there was anxiety in his voice and Alan reached for his hand and when he thought Lars wasn't looking planted a kiss on its raised knuckles .  
"That's good.... Ok..... He's lying sideways today but that's nothing to worry about he has plenty of space to move around into a better birth position and fluid levels are good .... I'll just take a photo for you....." Lars took measurements of the head circumferance.....  
"Is he asleep?" Alan asked. "He's got his eyes shut?"  
"At this stage the eyes are closed.....He's opening his mouth....I'd say that's a yawn, Alan." Lars answered.... the skull measurement was still small for dates.  
"I'm boring him already?" Alan said with a wry smile.  
Sherlock's eyes were locked on the screen but Lars still saw him shake his head at Riddick's jokey, self disparaging comment as though he disagreed with it.....

Lars moved his attention down to the fetal body..... "Heart looks great. Nice clear image of all four chambers and the valves.... That dark shadow is a very full stomach and bladder. Baby's been drinking the amniotic fluid again..... "  
"Little greedy guts," Riddick said and Lars saw Sherlock smile.  
Lars took another series of measurements around the abdomen and checked the lung development as best he could. The injections had helped and things looked more viable.  
"He's a bigger belly, hasn't he?" Alan looked at Lars in hope he'd agree. "Looks like he's grown a bit fatter?"  
"He is'nt the only one, " Sherlock said wryly .  
"Feeling rounder, Sherlock?" Lars asked with an understanding smile.  
"Fat." Sherlock said firmly. "I can't fit into my pj bottoms anymore, I've had to borrow Alan's and even then the button digs in if I try and do it up."  
"And here I was thinking you were trying to tempt me by leaving the button open every night ...." Alan teased.  
Sherlock gave a complacent smile. "That's just a very nice side effect of my doing it ...."

Lars watched as Neep emptied his bladder.....  
"Did he just.... pee?" Sherlock asked. He was pretty sure that was what just happened.  
"Very much so.... see that dark fluid area has gone? He emptied his bladder into the amniotic fluid. " Lars said.  
"Neep that's gross," Sherlock looked down and addressed his bump. "A little respect here please!"  
Lars checked the thigh bone measurement twice.....There was no doubt about it, growth under what it should be. "Sorry I have to press a little harder here...." He moved the ultrasound wand to get a clearer look at the cervix.....  
Sherlock noticed the seriousness of Lars expression instantly...."What? Something's wrong... I can see from your face?""  
Alan turned away from the screen sharply to lock eyes with Lars....  
"Growth is a little under what you'd normally expect.... but we've known all along baby is small for dates." Lars wiped the gel from Sherlock's pale skin. " There have been some cervical changes. If you'd like to sit up Sherlock?... It'll be clearer if I show you some options as we talk.... then I can answer any questions you have properly.... I'll just step out and get the things I need from the other room.... "

Sherlock was quiet.  
"Lars'll tell us if it was more serious than he's seeing...." Alan said.  
"Not growing is serious," Sherlock said bleakly.  
"He didn't say no growth.... he said slow growth...." Alan reminded Sherlock. "Nowt wrong with Neep being on the small side if he's healthy....."  
Yes there could be.... "He may need special care if he's really small.... he can't keep himself warm unless he has some body fat." Sherlock had read the books cover to cover unlike Alan who'd skipped to the birth and baby development chapters.  
"Don't overthink it lad.... " Alan said, trying hard to hide his own worry. "Lets hear what Lars has to say first. We don't know for sure yet...."  
"Stay positive? I'm trying...." Sherlock said.

Alan was sat beside Sherlock on the examination bed when Lars came back around the curtain. The Alpha had an arm round Sherlock....  
"So... is there owt going on we need to worry about?" Alan asked the direct question.  
"There have been some changes to the cervix. I can see funnelling at the top... although the sitch is unaffected...."  
"It's starting to open up at the top?" Alan asked after a quick glance at Sherlock.  
"There are some signs that may be beginning to happen........ I'd like to do a fibronectin test to be sure. "  
"How's that work?"  
"That involves a cervical swap.... " Lars wasn't surprised that Alan was doing most of the talking . Sherlock looked lost.....  
"How'd you get that....? " Alan began asking then shut up as he worked it out from the metal speculum and long swap stick Lars had set out to show to show them before going ahead. Jesus did that metal thing have to go up inside Sherlock....?  
Lars watched Alan take a firmer hold of Sherlock's hand.... "This is the swap I'd use....the swab is taken from below the cervix so its uncomfortable Sherlock but not painful." He recalled telling Sherlock that once before.... he hadn't forgotten Riddick's verbally aggressive, protective reaction either..... "Fetal fibronectin is a protein that acts like a glue to keep the amniotic sac baby floats in attached to the womb.... if the swaps show fetal fibronectin has been released through the cervix its a strong indicator that premature birth is likely...."  
" If its there.....then what else can you do? Can you put another stitch in or owt?" The worry in Alan's voice was very obvious.  
Lars had opened his mouth to explain when Sherlock cut in... "I'm not the Bayeaux tapestry , he can't just keep sewing Neep in!" As soon as he'd said it Sherlock squeezed Alan's hand by way of apology for snapping and felt Alan's warm fingers lock in with his own .

"The safest approach is too leave the stitch in situ and wait and see.... " Lars laid a bright blue latex ring down next too the swab kit ......"This is an Arabin pessary. I'd place it high up so the lower part of the cervix sits inside of the open ring..... the open design means progesterone pessaries can be used in conjunction with it to help prevent contractions from further shortening the cervix...."  
Alan was temporarily speechless. The bloody thing looked like a plastic donut.  
"This goes inside me and stays inside me?" Sherlock had picked up the Arabin Pessary from the table and was looking sick as he turned it in his hands.  
"It's removed at the beginning of labour. " Lars nodded. "Early studies in the Netherlands have been promising."  
"Studies? It's experimental?" Sherlock sounded appalled.  
"Not exactly.... it just isn't widely used here in the Uk... yet." Lars explained.  
Sherlock put it back down and looked to Alan for help.....

"You said he needs the other thing as well? How many of them other pessary things would he need to have?" Riddick knew how much Sherlock hated internal examinations....  
"The progesterone? Weekly...." Lars said. "The longer we can keep Neep inside.... as long as he is still growing and active the less problems he is likely to have after birth...."  
"Even if he isn't growing much? He's still safer inside me?" Sherlock wanted promises even though he knew Lars couldn't give him any.  
"I'd like you to monitor the baby's daily movements using a kick chart and to come in for extra scans...... As long as blood flow to the fetus is good and growth is still upwards even if its slower.... a few well managed weeks can make all the difference to the intervention needed after birth."  
"Weeks? That's all it'll be then? He's definately coming early?" Alan was quick to realise what Lars was saying.  
"Yes... at best it's a matter of weeks . It may well be sooner. Normally I'd already have put Sherlock on bed rest but since I know that's impossible I just want your word, Sherlock that you'll lay down and rest whenever you can for as long as you can....the less stress we put on the cervix the better, " Lars stood up.... "I'll give you a little time to talk about it together...."

 

"Well...?" Mycroft was stood waiting in the corridor outside, his pale angular face looked washed out under the overheard light.  
"You know I can't tell you ," Lars said. "I'm not breaking patient confidentiality .... "  
Mycroft briefly considered his options for exerting pressure to get the information he needed.... bearing in mind Lars current position as Sherlock's doctor they were limited to say the least. "There has clearly been a change for the worst in my brothers already precarious condition!" He moved to walk past Lars towards the room Sherlock and Riddick were in and was surprised when the Omega stood his ground and didn't step aside .....  
"Give _them _time to talk about it between them." Lars stressed the 'them' since Alan's opinion also counted here.__  
"Sherlock is _my _brother. The child will be my nephew..." Mycroft said haughtily.__  
"I understand you are concerned but they are the parents." For Lars, dealing with worried relatives was an intrinsic part of his job. "I'll tell them you're out here but it is up to them to invite you in."  
The door opened and Alan Riddick stepped out. The expression on his face was tense.... although he saw Mycroft was there, he made no open sign of acknowledgement and merely called Lars name before going back inside the room.  
Lars caught a flash of the anxiety on Mycroft's face as he turned away....

____

Sherlock was white faced but he was still sat on the bed. He looked miserably resigned to the inevitable.  
"Your brother, Mycroft, is outside, asking how you are.... He's concerned. " Lars said as he began setting up the things he needed.  
" I know, Alan already said..... He can come in after. I can't.... I _can't _deal with him now," Sherlock said.__

__

____

Sherlock had the gas and air mouthpiece ready and one thin arm wrapped round Alan's neck keeping their faces close.... "Don't hold me down," he said nervously to Alan. "I don't want to be held down if it hurts..."  
Alan swallowed hard and leant his head against Sherlock's wordlessly before he could reply, haunted by his own mistakes... "I won't.... Remember that first time I scented you?" Riddick said to Sherlock. "I was gentle then wasn't I?"  
"Yes," Sherlock said and pressed himself closer to Alan.

" Ok.... Sherlock I can do this with you rolled over onto your side facing Alan if you'd prefer that?"  
Sherlock nodded. He'd had an injectable mild sedative and was feeling sleepy...  
"Alan if you stand here and support Sherlock's upper leg, he can lay on his side towards you...." Lars tried to find a way to offer Sherlock as much privacy and body contact with the Alpha as he could give him. He laid a blanket over Sherlock and folded a corner of it forward as he moved Sherlock's gown up out of his way..  
"Alan if you can just lift and support Sherlock's leg..... Lift it forward.... "  
Alan lifted the thigh he was holding forward and up a little and saw Lars edge his wheeled stool closer.  
"I'm going to wipe your skin with a sterile cleanser first." Having never seen Sherlock's body in this position Lars was saddened to see old scarred bites scattered down Sherlock's sides.... "Deep slow breathing now Sherlock.... Keep breathing the gas and air all the way through." Lars said and began as soon as he heard Sherlock obey him and begin inhaling......

Mycroft stared blankly at the wall....inside his mind the past played as though on an loop..... .  
Sherlock laying flat on the grass down by the sunken garden with his ear too what he'd convinced himself was an occupied mole hole. The soles of his socked feet were green with fresh grass stains.  
"Mycroft.... where do Omega babies come from?"  
"From a sexual act Sherlock between Alpha and Omega......" Mycroft was unphased. It was a matter of human biology after all and Sherlock had a scientific mind. "The Alpha places his penis inside the Omega his sperm is released and fertilises an egg from the Omega that grows into a baby inside the womb."  
Sherlock looked back over his shoulder to make sure that unlikely scenario was true.... upon seeing it was he pulled a face. "Gross! Like blowing your nose inside someone... " he said.  
"Quite...." Mycroft agreed. Even though he knew it to be something he should want to try, as an Elite Alpha.... the sheer physicality of the act seemed as though it would be somewhat beyond him...  
"Mummy says...." Sherlock began , as he selected a long green stem of seeded grass and poked the thin end of it carefully down into the loose mounded earth of the molehill....."That I _have _to have one.... An Alpha and a baby I mean."__  
Mycroft almost laughed.... "You are a child of 7 Sherlock...."  
Sherlock was annoyed.... "I'm not stupid. I know not yet.... I mean when I'm bigger."  
"Bigger?" Without thinking Mycroft ridiculed Sherlock's vague choice of word. "Do try and be more specific.... if you mean older then say so."  
"Older then." Sherlock was scowling at him. "When I'm old enough for babies... what happens if I don't want to be like Mummy?"  
Mycroft couldn't imagine a future in which Sherlock would be remotely like Mummy . The idea was absurd. "You are a child" he resorted to the facts again.  
Sherlock had rolled over onto his belly again and was stabbing his grass stem down into the soil angrily .... Mycroft was taken aback to see him upset and immediately felt ashamed of how he'd reacted. Sherlock hated to be patronised... "Even at my age you will still be too young ."  
"Are you sure?" Sherlock double checked. " Really sure I don't have to do that with an Alpha or have lots of babies when I'm older.... because Mummy said...."  
Mycroft interrupted this nonsensical topic... _Why on earth would Mummy have said that? Sherlock must have misunderstood. _"Of course I am sure.... You'll still be living here. You'd be 14 and that is still far too young to have to consider an Alpha let alone babies. It's a ridiculous notion."__  
Mycroft heard his past self restating the bare facts as he'd thought he knew them....  
What a complacent fool he had been!

__

____

The sound of a door opening bought Mycroft's focus back just in time to see Alan Riddick walk out and stand still, both arms bracing his head, taking deep breath after breath....Mycroft watched the broad expanse of Alan's ribcage expand as he took a series of heaving inhalations ..."Fuck! "   
"What are you doing outside?" Mycroft challenged the other Alpha. Had he left Sherlock alone to face this?  
"Let me be... " Alan warned him bluntly.  
"No!" Mycroft had no idea what was happening but baulked at remaining in ignorance instinctively. "Alan? Sherlock needs you!"  
As Alan went to walk away without answering him, Mycroft caught hold of him and was surprised when he found himself able to push him back against the wall without a struggle, his own firm grasp around both Alan's brawny biceps in some bizarre stalemate as he tried to prevent the other man from leaving. "Now is not the time to leave Sherlock alone!"  
"I'm not sodding bolting..... For fucks sake. I was told to go out!" Alan ground the words out.  
This close Mycroft was aware of an uncharacteristic agitation in Riddick's eyes.... What on earth was wrong with the man? He seemed overwrought .... "Why? I know my brother.... he'll want you with him in there!"  
"For fucks sake! Three goes at it and Lars still couldn't get the fucking thing in right!" Alan broke Mycroft's grasp in one unpredictable upwards movement . "I need a bloody minute or two is all... before I say something I'll sodding regret!"  
The reason for Riddick's fraught look now became clear... "There is an empty room on the left seven doors down..... Sit down and compose yourself .... Drink some water..... Control your protective instinct .... when you have done so come back..... and Alan..... don't take long doing it, Sherlock needs you!"

Mycroft took a second to compose himself..... then knocked and opened the door.  
Lars was washing his hands on the far side of the room. He acknowledged Mycroft with a nod. Mycroft noticed the signs of recent tension in the man's posture. "It was a difficult procedure ," Lars explained. "I thought it best to ask Alan to step outside.... Sherlock needs to remain lying down until I am sure there are no contractions."  
Mycroft nodded. On the tray beside the sink he could see a metal speculum. ... "I should imagine these things require a certain dexterity," he sympathised. Being compelled to repeatedly attempt the same medical procedure several times under the eye of an increasingly distraught Alan Riddick must have taken a very certain type of dedicated bravery.....

Sherlock was laid on his side, blanket over him.... a surprisingly small hunched shape on the bed......  
His eyes were closed. He wasn't asleep.  
"Brother mine...." Mycroft righted and occupied the toppled chair he assumed had been pushed aside by Riddick in his rush for the door.  
"It wasn't anyones fault." Sherlock didn't open his eyes. "Is Alan alright?"  
"He will be," Mycroft said. He took Sherlock's hand in his own. With both eyes closed Sherlock looked so vulnerable.  
"It was too much for him." Sherlock said. "He was afraid he'd lose it."  
Mycroft sought words that would suffice.... "At least he recognised that possibilty." He gave Sherlock's hand a comforting squeeze. "He adores you, Sherlock."  
"Ha...." Sherlock said with a secretive smile. "Don't tell him that , he thinks he just loves me."

"So.... you and Greg.....finally?" Sherlock said....  
Mycroft was taken aback.... "How on earth did you deduce that?"  
"You smell of his aftershave....like someone put a beehive on a bonfire . Honeyed smoke and wood." Sherlock sounded very sure.  
Normally Mycroft would have protested the absurdity of such a poetic description but this time he knew it to be apt..... "I initially thought that it had to be his aftershave but it appears to be the natural scent of his skin."  
Sherlock yawned.... "There's always something I get wrong, " he said with a huge whole body shiver.  
Mycroft tucked the blanket higher around his brother and placed a second one on top of it. He heard again his own teenage voice correcting Sherlock. Promising him a future that had been stolen from him... This time he could do better.... " Under the circumstances Sherlock , I think you did extraordinarily well too deduce anything at all."  
Trying to smile was exhausting Sherlock so he didn't bother with it this time. "Flattery? You must be a whole new level of worried, Mycroft " he said.  
Mycroft stared down at his brother to be sure Sherlock's eyes still remained closed, relieved the open concern and stress in his own face remained unseen, he was confident in his own ability to keep it from his voice.... "Don't be absurd, Sherlock....Worry would achieve nothing."


	82. Rise Up, Ting Ting Like Glitter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does not lend itself well to a summary....  
> Lots happens ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I don't offend anyone reading by Sherlock saying he's feeling fat....pregnancy can make you feel that way sometimes and I just want to keep it real.  
> Track is Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney.

Mary used one painted toe to hook John's boxer briefs out from underneath the sheets onto her bedroom floor and stretched her four limbs out wide. Whatever else he was or wasn't John Watson was none too shabby sexually.....  
"Mary.... do you have a less flowery shave gel?" John called through from the ensuite, through the open door.  
She laughed before she replied, making sure she kept her tone light and feminine. "Sorry John. Just the one in there. I'm a girly girl."  
"I'll manage," John said. Maybe he could grab a shave at 221B before they set off for court. 

Mary waited until she heard the sound of running water ..... only then did she reach for her mobile phone. She'd installed an AP weeks ago that cloned every text John sent or received. Within a second she was going through his instant messages at speed....  
SHERLOCK.... Your chances of being godfather depend on the immediate and successful implementation of this mission.  
JOHN .... What mission?  
SHERLOCK..... No idea. Irrelevant anyway. Bring cakes. 5 should do. Or 6  
jOHN..... Good morning to you too... Yeah I slept great. Thanks for asking.  
SHERLOCK ..... I didn't ask. Definately 6 cakes.  
JOHN.... You can't eat 6 cakes Sherlock. Unless you want gestational diabetes.  
SHERLOCK .... Fine . I'll eat 1. Neep will eat the other 5.  
JOHN.... Alan's not there is he?  
SHERLOCK.... Nope.  
JOHN....Have a nice bowl of muesli.  
SHERLOCK This is a medical emergency, John. Dust in a bowl isn't going to cut it.  
JOHH..... Kinda busy here mate.... with my significant other.  
SHERLOCK.... Really? Which one? Saul or Mary.... or is there someone new now?  
JOHN.... Very funny.  
JOHN.... Mary. Thought I'd stick around for round two.....  
SHERLOCK.... Mycroft always says if you do a thing properly the first time you don't need to do it twice over.  
JOHN ..... Sometimes your brother can be a total prat. Wheres Alan?  
SHERLOCK.... core work out  
JOHN.... careful you almost sound like you know what that means  
SHERLOCK....... haha I'm still thin beneath my current beach ball on legs shape  
JOHN..... Course you are. You haven't even got to the weight gain stage.... yet.  
SHERLOCK..... OMG did you hear that? That was your chances of being god parent diminishing.  
JOHN.... Not worried. I can bribe my way back into first place with a box of muffins.  
SHERLOCK.... Type?  
John..... Breakfast muffins. Very healthy.  
SHERLOCK.... Yuck. Neep says he'll consider the bribe but they all need to be chocolate chip.  
JOHN.... GTG Marys awake

SHERLOCK ..... John?  
JOHN.... Yeah?  
SHERLOCK.... I had to estimate your shag time bearing in mind it's with a woman so something I know nothing about. Just out of interest how accurate have I been?  
JOHN.... Not answering that.  
SHERLOCK.... That's unhelpful. What if solving a murder depends upon me knowing that very fact one day?  
JOHN..... Still no. What's up?  
SHERLOCK.... Good news. Greg says he is bringing emergency food.  
JOHN..... You got Greg out of bed to get you cakes?  
SHERLOCK.... Not exactly. Neep also wanted cake.  
JOHN..... SHERLOCK!  
SHERLOCK..... You do realise you are shouting at a mum to be using CAPS?  
SHERLOCK....Fairly sure thats against the hippocratic oath.  
JOHN .... SHERLOCK!!!  
SHERLOCK.... Not exactly..... I asked him to bring over some nice juicy murder files. He said anything else your Lordship? So then I said cakes.....  
JOHN.... SHERLOCK!!!!  
SHERLOCK .... Your exclamation marks are multiplying excessively.  
SHERLOCK.... Greg never uses exclamation marks when he texts back.  
SHERLOCK.... Mycroft does..... OMG you are morphing into Mycroft °~°  
JOHN ..... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Mary?" John's voice came from the bedroom door.  
Mary made sure to smile as she looked up. "Hey there sexy man....."  
"Do you still have too keep the wound dry or can you come share a shower?"  
Mary smiled. John believed she'd connected with a branch while mountain biking down a forest trail ..... "I have to keep it dry..... " she slipped out from beneath the sheet and walked over to John wearing only her lace panties. and watched John's gaze drop down her bare breasts..... "But that doesn't mean we can't get something else wet...." she said suggestively.....  
"Sounds good to me," John smiled and slid his hands down her body to her pert rear before lifting her up.....

 

Aric Weber stole a glance at his bond mate .  
Aprielle sat in the front seat of the car and stared gloomily out of the cars side window without looking at anything.  
"If you wish you could accompany me to the court later....?" Aric offered as he pulled out of the driveway and saw his protection car follow behind him.  
"My hand hurts." Aprielle said apathetically.  
"Did you take your pain killers?" Aric was concerned.  
"Yes. Don't fuss all about me, Aric." Aprielle said. 

Greg Lestrade stood the packed bakery until he'd reached the front of the line....  
"Two of those chocolate pastries , two of the maple twists with the icing and two of the custard tarts.... Oh and a couple of those long lemon iced buns....." he said. "Can you stick them in a box and not bags, he won't eat anything if they look squashed...."  
"Alpha a bit fussy is he?" The woman serving said with a knowing smile.  
"Something like that," Greg said  
He'd left the bakery and was walking back to the multi story carpark when his phone rang just as he was stood at the crossing. Mycroft's name flashed up on screen "Good morning good looking....." Greg said with a smile.  
"Gregory.... Good morning." Mycroft sounded flustered already and Greg grinned knowing all too well the effect he had upon the other man..... "The newsagents to your immediate left...... todays headlines....." Mycroft said unexpectedly.  
What the Hell? Greg turned around.....  
HOLMES OMEGA AND EX BODYGUARD VISIT SEX DOCTOR the headline proclaimed and under it Greg saw the whole front-page was taken up with a photo of them walking down the street together..... just in case anyone missed it the camera man had zoomed right in on the moment Alan gave Sherlock's arse an admiring glance.  
"Bugger....." Greg said.  
"I couldn't have expressed it more aptly myself, Gregory."Mycroft agreed. "There is a four page photgraphic spread for Heaven's sake...."  
"Do they know?" Greg asked.  
"Not yet. I've agents collecting Alan from the changing room at the gym now.... he's showering .... There are journalists waiting near your car.... I've sent a car and driver for you. The red car driving towards you ....." Mycroft said.  
That degree of knowing someone's whereabouts was unsettling.... "Just so I'm clear are we still maintaining the pretence that you work in the goverment?" Greg said.  
"In a very minor role...." Mycroft replied.  
"Course you do....." Greg said as the red BMW pulled up next to him. He put the box of cakes on top of the car roof as he opened the door.....  
"Behind you..... press ." Mycroft's voice warned him and the very next second there was a shout from someone behind Greg and the sound of feet pounding down the path as he was spotted by the press.....  
"There he is!..... Greg! .... Greg Lestrade!" .  
Greg grabbed the cake box, got in the back seat fast and was driven away at speed ....... 

Aric turned off the engine and waited for Aprielle to notice where he was.....  
The Omega continued to stare blankly out of the side window.  
Aric's phone screen lit up, He answered with it on speaker phone..... watching Aprielle sit motionless as he did so.  
"We have a problem." Mycroft said. "I take it you haven't seen the front pages of Magnussen's newspapers this morning? My brother and Alan Riddick are headline news.... Photographed outside Robert Hardcock's clinic. The headline refers to him a 'sex doctor' and states the clinic he works at deals with STDs..."  
Aric watched as Aprielle finally realised where they were..... parked outside a cat rescue centre.....  
He saw Aprielle come awake and sit up straight in his seat before turning around to look at him.....  
"Aric?"  
"I will be there as soon as we are finished here, Mycroft...." Aric looked fondly back at his mate.  
"Choosing a cat can wait surely?" Mycroft said.  
"It cannot." Aric said. "We came here to chose a cat or cats and that is what we will do before leaving."  
"I will never understand the need for pets." Mycroft said.  
They are more than pets. " I will try to be with you by 11 since we will be in court by 1." Aric said.  
"Very well." With a click Mycroft ended the call.  
Aprielle had tears in his eyes as he looked at Aric. "But Aric..... your case.... It's important, yes?"  
Aric cupped his palm over Aprielle's knee .... "I need to see you smile again Aprielle.... "  
Aprielle leaned in for a kiss and rested his head against Aric's shoulder.... "Now I am ashamed. You do all this for me....and I have been like a lemon."  
" Sour?" Aric smiled..... "You have always made me happy Aprielle....." Aric's voice was hoarse with emotion... he gave a dry cough.  
"I hope you are not smoking again?" Aprielle said suspiciously. " Your poor lungs Aric... I am sure if they could say they would be saying 'let us breathe' "  
Aric's deep laughter filled the car.... He hadn't smoked but it had been a close thing. "I've missed you telling me not too smoke," he said and pressed his lips into Aprielle's dark glossy hair..... "Come let us choose a fur baby."

 

In the centre Aric stood and watched his Omega with a placid contentment as Aprielle talked to the rescue staff and learnt the life stories of the many cats, young and old, perfect or battle scarred, friendly or afraid that filled the glass fronted cages.  
Aprielle had stopped by a pen few people bothered to look into for long...... He was gazing in. "Tell me about this one?"  
"This is Sidney. He was abandoned for so long he had become semi feral so he needed a lot of work.... When we trapped him he had cancer of the mouth, his breath was shocking, the vet had to remove part of his jawbone..... " Zoe, the short blonde girl who worked there had her own favourites , the ones that everyone walked by and dismissed time after time..... In the days of selfies nobody wanted a big black cat with an oddly pointed lower jaw but Sidney tugged at her heart. "He can be a bit hand shy still," she warned...  
Aprielle had already opened the pen...... "Hello Mister Zidney...." he said undeterred. "What a big beautiful boy you are with your white socks.... Come meet my Aric. "  
Zoe was astonished to see Sidney already in Aprielle's arms as the Omega turned around too speak to his mate.  
"Oh Aric ..... look at his poor little mouth.... Poor Zidney!" Aprielle said...  
Aric watched Aprielle's smile ..... from his Omega's arms the pointed face of the big black cat with its tiny mishapen jawbone watched him stilly as Aprielle caressed his fur lovingly and a deep purring sound began.  
"What do you think? We can make him some safe spaces in the house until he settles?" Aprielle asked for his opinion.  
Aric touched the cats dangling foot gently then let his hand stroke over Aprielle's fingers briefly..... " I think he has spoken. Listen to him purr. "  
"Welcome to the Weber family Sid," Zoe said.  
Aprielle gave Zoe an understanding smile.... "I know you will miss him. I promise we will love him, Aric and me. "  
"I know you will. " Zoe said. "I never saw him go to anyone like that before. He's a very lucky black cat aren't you Sidney?"

 

Alan was feeling as rattled as any Alpha soaping his balls in the gym shower, when he was interrupted by suited goons sent in by his almost brother in law, had a bloody right to feel......  
"A bit of ruddy privacy woud be a nice thing....I was bollock naked," he said as soon as he saw Mycroft's suited figure sat waiting for him in reception.  
By way of an answer Mycroft turned the newpaper he'd been reading around and watched as Alan saw the headline and huge photo of himself giving Sherlock's lean hips an appreciative look as the Omega stepped ahead of him.  
"Oh shit!" Alan said with feeling. "They would get me the second I took a look at his arse..... I look like a sodding pervert!"

Sherlock was having the strangest morning he had ever had in his whole life.....  
"This came from Biba ..... Yoko had it in red and orange..... I bought it in psychedelic purple and acid green... we had different skin tones. You see?" Martha said as she ran the scarf through her fingers.....  
Sherlock surveyed himself in the mirrored wardrobe door. "I'm not 100% sure it's me...." he said. "What fabric did you say this is again? "  
"Cheesecloth.... it came from an ashran in India..." Martha said. "Now.... you've such a lovely swan like neck, you can wear it tied or loose.... or even tied round your head like this.... It''s such a shame you've cut your hair so short...."  
"is it?" Sherlock took advantage of her distraction to steal another biscuit. He took another look at the scarf and moved it back around his neck..... "It makes me look less fat if its hanging down over the bump...." he said as he moved the scarf ends over Neep like curtains then drew them apart repeatedly. "Thin again .... fat again.... thin again .... fat again..."  
Martha tutted at him..... "Sherlock Holmes! Having a baby is not the same as being overweight! "  
Sherlock pulled a face. "It looks the same."  
"Oh Sherlock! You are growing a baby and that's a wonderful thing!" Martha put her arms round him and gave him a hug." You look lovely... and I know Alan thinks so because he told me so yesterday."  
Sherlock was surprised to find being hugged by Martha while wearing her garishly bright headscarf made him want to cry. He couldn't imagine Mummy would ever have bothered to give him a hug even if he was pregnant with sextuplets and every one of them was an Alpha ...."Sorry. It's hormones," he sniffed and swiped at his eyes.  
Martha petted his hair .... "Of course it is, sweetheart," she said soothingly. 

As soon as Alan had the front door open Mycroft paced down the hall ahead of him and was halfway up the stairs before realising Alan wasn't following.  
He turned back to see Alan stood motionless in the hallway..... "We don't have all day Alan," he pointed out.  
"Well, he'll not be upstairs will he...." Riddick said as though it ought to be obvious.  
"He won't?" Mycroft was somewhat surprised that Alan seemed so sure without checking.  
"Aye, he'll still not stay upstairs by himself.... He'll be in with Martha," Alan said matter of factly. "Besides she'll have home made biscuits...."  
"Ah..." Mycroft said.

Sherlock was sat crosslegged on Martha's bed next to an empty plate of biscuits.  
Mycroft had no explanation for the frankly lurid psychadelic scarf draped around his brother's shoulders..... nor did he miss the brief 'told you so ' expression that crossed Alan's face.  
Alan sat down on the bed and leaned in for a kiss.... "Look at you... all ready for Woodstock. Everything alright?" he said.  
Sherlock smiled, unaware that the bright lucidity in his eyes made it clear he'd been crying .... "I have no idea what that is, " he admitted. He _thought _Woodstock was a small yellow bird that lived on top of a cartoon dog's kennel but that couldn't be right.... surely?__  
Alan pressed a second kiss to Sherlock's forehead. "Aye I know you don't, love."  
Mycroft refused to be so informal as too sit on someone else's bed as though it were a couch..... yet remaining standing and talking down to Sherlock felt odd..... Was it too late too fetch a chair?  
Sherlock's bright eyed focus switched to Mycroft.... "What's wrong?"  
Mycroft placed the newspaper he was carrying upon the bed and watched Sherlock open it at the front page.  
Sherlock looked silently at it.... then flipped to the double page spread to find a huge series of photos of Alan fixated on his arse..... he flicked back to the front page fast. "Oh... " he said.  
Alan pulled the paper around to face him and gave a snort .... "Says here..... _the burly figure of Welshman Alan Riddick _... For fucks sake I've no Welsh blood in me! I'm Yorkshire through and through!"__  
Mycroft sat down on the bed after all...."That is hardly the point, "he began.  
"You'd not be saying that if they'd you down as a German when you're an Englishman." Alan said.

Mycroft saw Sherlock smile ."I'm glad you find this so amusing Sherlock," he said crisply. He was irritated and it showed.  
Sherlock sighed.."I don't." He flipped the newspaper over. "It's one of Charles tabloids. Of course it's going to be anti me. All of them are."  
"We do not need to provide them with the opportunity for another defamatory article!" Mycroft pointed out.  
"I'm giving his arse a look.... could be worse couldn't it?" Alan sounded sad and that was so unusual that both Sherlock and Alan turned to look at him.  
"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.  
"Now't lad." Alan said.  
" No...something is? Tell me what?" Sherlock said.  
"It'd just be good to walk down the street with you Sherlock and be who we are.... I'm bloody sick of all this skulking around pretending like we aren't together!" Alan admitted.  
Mycroft stared at him frostily. 

____

____

"Hey.... anybody in?" Greg's voice called from Martha's front door.  
"Gregory's here...." Mycroft fought to keep a smile out of his voice....  
"Cakes!" Sherlock said as he slithered off the bed and made for the door.  
"Oh for Heaven's sake Sherlock!..... Priorities!" Mycroft called after him.  
"I saw that look you gave me , " Riddick said as soon as Sherlock had gone. "I said now't."  
Mycroft didn't deny it.... " We agreed. Nothing until the baby is born, when it is unavoidable. Do you want to be arrested sooner, when Sherlock needs you here ?"  
Alan gave him a level look.... "Oh aye. Can't wait to have my whole life ripped apart... I'm a funny bastard like that!" he said with bitter sarcasm.  
Sherlock came in with a white cake box.... a pastry already jammed between his teeth. He sat on the bed and removed the pastry to ask..... " A funny bastard like what?"  
Mycroft's eyes flicked Alan's way..... warningly.  
"Just my jokes.... " Alan said. "Give us a bite of your cake, lad...."

"Mycroft..." Greg's familiar voice came from the doorway and Mycroft looked and saw him standing there in a sharp white shirt and a faintly dishevelled looking black raincoat.  
"Gregory....." Mycroft stood up then found himself at a loss. _What was the correct manner in which to greet an Omega you'd recently exchanged bodily fluids and panted breaths with and whom you found deeply attractive _?.... "Tea?" he suggested brightly.__  
Greg's boyish smile was sexily at odds with his silver streaked hair. "I'll stay for a cup," he said agreeably.  
Mycroft became aware of a studied silence from the bed behind him where his brother and Alan still sat.... he could almost feel their rapt attention through his skin. "Tea Sherlock?" he offered politely..... _Please say yes , then I can suggest Gregory accompanies me to the kitchen _....__  
"No.... I do need the cold case files from Greg's car though..... since you asked...." Sherlock said unhelpfully.  
"The what?" Mycroft was vexed..... _Tea, Sherlock, during the making of which I hope to kiss Gregory..... TEA ..... not a task that involves numerous phone calls and despatching someone to retrieve items from a multi storey carpark in Pimlico. _!__  
Greg took pity on him. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes..... "I'll explain while we make a cuppa," he said. "And Sherlock..... don't eat all those cakes before we've had any sunshine."  
"I'm not promising anything...." Sherlock said.  
Mycroft moved towards Gregory, the doorway and the kitchen and escape from his younger brothers powers of observation with relief. He got as far as two steps away from the door ....  
"Don't forget to send for the crime scene files before you both start snogging....." Sherlock called after him.  
Mycroft closed his eyes for a instant.... heard an amused Greg say "Concentrate on your cakes Sherlock" in reply ..... and managed to continue down the corridor with his haughty demeanour more or less intact.  
In Martha's small kitchen.... a mere inch away from a clothes airer covered in tights and ladies undergarments including two bras .... he successfully managed to snog Greg breathless as the kettle boiled and lost track of his own breathing in the process.....

"Maybe I should go in there ....see what's taking so long with this tea." Alan teased.  
Sherlock grinned. "Very bad idea," he said. There was an iced bun in the cake selection with yellow icing.....  
"I'm having a word with him about ruddy boundaries for sure.... You know he sent into the shower to get me?" Alan grumbled.  
Sherlock smirked.... "Were you doing that thing where you soap cock and balls together with both hands?" He decided he would eat the long iced bun as well.....  
"Might of been," Riddick admitted.  
Sherlock gave the icing a tentative lick.... it was going to be disappointing if it was just yellow icing and not lemon flavoured..... he looked up to see Alan's eyes fixed on his every move...... as a test he licked the icing again and watched Riddick's eyes flicker after the movement of his tongue and lips. Finally he took a bite..... "Really? Me eating an iced bun gives you porny thoughts about blow jobs?"  
Alan snorted with laughter .... "Well it did before you bit the end off!"  
Sherlock was giggling when he heard the front door slam and John's uneven footsteps heading up the stairs.....  
"Shall I tell him we're in here?" Alan offered.  
Sherlock took another bite of bun and discovered it was full of lemon curd..... Ugh why? A perfectly good bun ruined..... "He'll work it out. Have a bite of this?"  
Alan obliged and pulled a face. "Jesus what's that yellow muck in the middle...."  
Sherlock started giggling again and this time couldn't stop.

 

In the kitchen Greg had taken over , kissing slow and dirty with plenty of tongue when John's voice called down the hall.....  
"Martha?..... Sherlock you here?"  
Mycroft disengaged at once with a brusque speed of detachment that was impressive. He was at the kettle in seconds... before John stuck his head round the door. "Good morning John. Cup of tea?"  
Greg blinked.... what the Heck just happened....had Mycroft just dropped him like a hot potato?  
"Sherlock's in the bedroom." Mycroft said ..... his voice was back to normal as though pinning Greg against the wall and kissing him thoroughly had never happened.  
"Oh right...." John said. "You're here early Greg?" He could sense some kind of atmosphere between them.  
Greg cleared his throat. "Yeah I brought his Lordship cakes."  
"You're a soft touch Greg...." John said meaningfully. "He'll only take advantage of you."  
Greg looked at Mycroft's straight back which was all he could see of the man. "No, I'll stop him before it ever comes to that," he said and for a moment he wasn't entirely sure which Holmes brother he was referring too either....


	83. Happy Families

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sherlock spends his morning trying on retro headscarves with Mrs Husdon and eating cake.... Charles attends a Parent/ Teacher meeting and Aleksander has a play date at the house of a family friend.  
> We meet Sasha and Alexei's six sons and Aleksander reacts angrily when he is teased and pushed past his limits....  
> It's not all misery for him though... .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning applies as this episode contains some abusive comments concerning a child. 
> 
> бычить.... to behave like a bull.
> 
> The game the children play is basically a version of Twister.
> 
> Blue the track is Sinner Love by HAEVN

Despite the exorbitant private school fees there was a smell to all schools that remained the same.... wooden floor polish mixed with a faint acidic whiff of urine and bleach from the nearby boys toilets.  
Charles Magnussen stood in the empty corridor with its slightly grubby walls and looked at Aleksander's contribution to the Van Gogh exhibit on display outside his classroom with his pale evaluative stare.

The classroom door opened and a small Alpha boy came out, holding his father's hand and towed him down the corridor. "Can we go to the toy shop now?" he said to his suited father as they passed Magnussen.  
His father acknowledged Charles with a formal nod, equal to equal but not friend to friend. "Yes Hugo, but lets tell Mummy how well you did first shall we? He's waiting in the car...."  
Charles thoughtful gaze returned to his sons attempt at painting Van Goghs Sunflowers. As always the paint was too thickly applied.  
"Mr Magnussen?"  
Charles turned round. A slim young woman in a smart skirt and blouse was stood waiting for him.  
"I'm Miss Willingale, Aleksander's subtitute teacher. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Hugo's Daddy arrived a little late for their appointment," she said. "Please come in Mr Magnussen."

In the large bright classroom there were educational posters on every wall and a stacked pile of open school books upon the teachers desk. Miss Willingale smiled again anxiously. She was dreading this particular meeting after everything she had heard in the staffroom.  
"Now where shall I begin? Well... I like Aleksander and enjoy teaching him. He really is a very clever boy. Throughout the term his assessment scores have been outstanding. All work has been of a consistently high standard and his written work is always well presented and very thoughtful. He can be a little shy but contributes to class discussions happily once he's included and he is a lot more willing to give an opinion or too put up his hand than he was at the start of the year....." She reached for Aleksander's copy book..... "Here in his free writing copy he was asked to write about 'Something Special' and he wrote about looking through his mother's microscope.... he's describing magnification here when he says "small things that you can't see with your eyes' .... as you can see he spells microscope wrongly and added a K instead of a C but at his age its a good attempt..... and the little drawing he did was so sweet... "

MY MUMMY  
MY MUMMY IS CALLED SHERLOCK  
MY MUMMY LIVES IN ANOTHER HOUSE  
ITS NOT VERY TIDY  
MY MUMMY HAD PRETTY HAIR BUT HE CUT IT ALL OFF  
MY MUMMY HAS A LOT OF BOOKS AND A DEAD BAT IN A BOX  
MY MUMMY HAS A MICROSKOPE THAT MAKES SMALL THINGS YOU CANT SEE WITH YOUR EYES BIG ENOUGH TO SEE  
MY MUMMY PLAYED GAMES WITH ME AND JOHN  
MY MUMMY GIVES ME HUGS  
MY MUMMY LOVES ME  
I LOVE MY MUMMY

ALEKSANDER MAGNUSSEN  
AGE 5

Magnussen stared down at his son's workbook without comment, his cold gaze fixed upon the sentences and the small colourful drawing beneath . 

"Mathematics is another strong point as I'm sure you know? Aleksander has a mind that lends itself too problem solving.... his end of term score in all the tests we do here showed him to be well above average and throughout the term he never scored lower than that. When it comes to addition, subtraction, or number puzzle challenges he performs well...." She hesitated hoping for some feedback.....  
"He enjoys the challenge. Solving the problem, as I myself did as a child" Charles spoke for the first time.  
"That's great, so many parents dislike mathematics themselves and of course that can influence a child negatively . A shared enjoyment of mathematics can really make a positive difference." Faced with Mr Magnussen's pale stare she found herself talking a little too fast and made a conscious effort to slow down... "So as I've said, academically Aleksander has no problems at all..... Socially however there have been some difficulties...."  
Magnussen looked at her, his gaze suddenly hard.  
Miss Willingale took a moment, she'd been warned that Charles Magnussen did not like to hear any criticism of his son's behaviour..... "Aleksander can tend to be critical of the work other boys are doing .....that upset some of the other boys who are a little less able..... and as you know there have been other more physical altercations.... I was wondering, does Aleksander socialise with other children outside of school? "  
Charles cold gaze remained on her...."He plays with the sons of a close friend of mine often."  
"It's great that he's mixing that will certainly help .... Would you consider letting him join an after school activity. On the noticeboard by the office we have lots of leaflets about clubs and activities.... Taking part in something like that alongside classmates can really improve the social skills and confidence of those children who, for whatever reason are finding mixing more difficult. We have a wonderful Scout troupe here at the school...."  
"Aleksander prefers the company of older children." Charles dislike of being questioned about his parenting in this manner showed in his tone as his voice cut abruptly across her. "I cannot see how my son's life outside of the school day concerns you."  
Miss Willingale sat very still.... "I'm sorry if I've overstepped in any way.... Aleksander is a lovely sensitive little boy..... I know he feels things deeply and finds it especially hard to deal with teasing. Last week he was very upset ..."  
"You are describing an Omega child .... overly emotional and weak.... my son is an Alpha." Charles said. He stood up and Miss Willingale stood up too although she'd had more she planned on saying . "I assume you mean well however you are merely a substitute teacher and this is only your fifth position since qualifying .... It would be a great shame should a complaint hinder your ability to obtain a more permanent position...... such a complaint, if made from one of the more influential parents, could have a lasting effect.... as I am sure you understand." 

In the empty sitting room Aleksander picked up a discarded cuddly toy Scottie dog and made it walk along the back of the couch... "Sit....Good dog!... Now roll over, " he said turning the toy onto its back .  
Another Alpha child's voice came the doorway from behind him. "Why are you playing with that? It's a baby toy?"  
Aleksander dropped the toy dog as though it was red hot. "I'm not."  
"Yes you were.... I saw you."  
A second younger child backed up the first. " Georgi saw you...."  
" I wasn't!" Aleksander denied it.  
"You're a baby and a liar, " Georgi's damning accusation hung in the air. "Everybody says so don't they Matvei? "  
Matvei agreed with a nod.  
Aleksander was embarrassed . "No they don't Matvei."  
"Yes they do..... everybody knows you're a baby. That's why you don't have any friends." Georgi said again.  
"Shut up " Aleksander said.  
"No... You don't get to tell me what to do.... I'm 7 in two months and you're only 5. "  
"Go away ...." Aleksander raised his voice .  
"No this is my house not yours! Why don't you go away like your mummy went away! " There was a thud as Georgi shoved Aleksander in the chest followed by a silence as all three boys waited to see what would happen next. "Your dirty mummy ran away with his bodyguard!"  
Aleksander was red faced.  
"He's going to cry!" The younger boy said. "Cry baby ..... cry baby ..... Aleksander's a cry baby!"  
"I'm not crying!" Aleksander shouted. "Stop saying that!"  
"Cry baby.... cry baby..... wet your shorts cry baby.....Where's your dirty mummy gone? " Georgi shoved Aleksander again; this time much harder....  
"My mummy's not dirty! Stop saying that! " Aleksander roared.  
"Aleksander's dirty mummy sitting in a tree...... K... I... SS... I N G ...." Georgi sneered.  
Alexander pushed him angrily.... the bigger boy shoved back and all of a sudden they were fighting.....  
There was shouting as the childrens maid came running..... "No .... No! Master Georgi... No fighting !"

"Aleksander is a guest in our home and you do _this _Georgi?" Sasha gestured towards Aleksander's tearful blotchy face and the uniformed maid tending to the distressed child. " You are old enough to know better... You too Matvei...."__  
Georgi, the elder of Sasha and Alexei's two Alpha sons stood stubbornly in the middle of the kitchen floor.... a red mark on his mouth from Aleksander's elbow...... "We don't want him to come. He's a baby...... We don't like him do we Matvei?"  
Sasha's youngest son shook his head, agreeing with his older brother.  
"Be quiet!" Sasha said. "I am ashamed of you both.... Matvei when will you learn to think for yourself? Aleksander came here to play with you...."  
Georgi was defiant.... "You can't make Matvei like him! Matvei's _my _brother! If I don't like Aleksander he won't like him! "__  
"You've played with Aleksander before Matvei.... You played in the tree house together " Sasha tried again to appeal to his youngest child.  
"I don't want to play with him...." Matvei rejected Sasha's attempt to make peace .  
"You can't make us let him play. I'll tell Father everything you do and say when he gets home ...." Georgi was bullishly set on getting his own way.

_____ _

Sasha frowned and saw his son smile triumphantly. Knowing there was nothing more he could do... he spoke to the maid instead.. "Blessica take Georgi and Matvei back to the garden please."  
Sasha waited until his sons had gone then spoke to Aleksander as the boy sniffed.... "They tease you because you react.... if you want it to stop then you must stop giving them that satisfaction."  
"I don't like being here. I want to go home. I want to go!" Aleksander's increasingly teary voice said.  
Sasha sighed, "You must stay until your Fader comes to take you."  
"I don't want too stay here!" Aleksander was miserable.  
"No.... but you must. Life works that way sometimes," Sasha said with wisdom born of bitter personal experience . 

Aleksander refused to hold Sasha's hand as they left the lift on the second floor of the huge house and walked down the corridor past a whole suite of rooms he had never seen before.  
The corridor walls were hung with Russian icons from floor to ceiling .... Aleksander's eyes swiveled to see each one as they passed them by. He didn't like the sombre faces.  
"You like the icons? They are very old." Sasha asked.  
Aleksander shook his head.  
"Neither do I," Sasha said honestly. "The eyes seem always to judge me."  
Aleksander frowned. "Then why do you have so many?"  
"Because I don't like them.... they were bought for me.... every one was a present, " Sasha said.  
Aleksander frowned. "Why would someone buy you them if they know you don't like them?"  
Sasha paused and opened the huge sliding glass doors that led outside to the roof terrace. "Perhaps they are trying to prove a point," he said. 

Outside on the paved roof terrace three blonde haired boy's all dressed identically in blue jeans and plain white t-shirts were playing a game on a floor mat covered in coloured squares..... behind them, strapped into a special padded wheelchair with a high back and headrest was another child.  
"What's _he _doing here?" The oldest of the children asked Sasha breathlessly as he stood upright. His heavy white blond hair was tousled.__  
"Aleksander is here because I invited him in. He can join in your game ....." Sasha said.  
"He _can't _.... he's Alpha. Why isn't he playing in the garden with Georgi and Matvei?" the Omega child said.__  
Sasha ignored the question.... "Aleksander .... these are my Omega sons Maxim, Nikolai, Danhil..... and Ilya. "  
Aleksander stared at the jerky, uncoordinated spasms of the child in the wheelchair. The sounds he was making as he banged his wrists down on the tray in front of him were nothing like words ...... "Why is he doing that?" Aleksander asked.  
"Aleksander can play if he wishes to, Maxim," Sasha said to his son .... "Join in Aleksander.... Ilya can't play but he'll watch."  
"Thats not fair! If we can't play down there then he can't play up here!" Maxim was adamant. "It's not fair! Georgi never lets us play in the garden!"  
Sasha looked at his eldest son's passionate face.... "Aleksander can play whatever game he likes, since he is Alpha" he said truthfully. "Life is not fair. Have I ever lied and told you it was?"  
Maxim scowled furiously.  
Aleksander watched as Sasha walked away from his son's indignant protest and sat at the table overlooking the long green garden below where his other two Alpha sons shouted, ran and played amid the trees on the sun dappled lawns.

____

____

"I'm Nikolai. Do you want to play? You can be green, nobody is green." Nikolai talked very fast.  
Aleksander wasn't sure. He didn't like green. "I like red," he said.  
"Maxim is red," Nikolai said, he looked worried. "I'm orange and Danhil is blue."  
Maxim groaned. "Oh let him be red.... he's the Alpha he probably wants to be all the best colours! Let him hog the whole game and ruin it!"  
Aleksander blinked. He didn't want to ruin the game, it looked like fun. If he said red they wouldn't want him to play..... "I'll be green" he said.

"Left foot to green..... No Aleksander that's your right foot.... the other one...." Maxim said.  
Aleksander obediently stretched the other foot back.....  
"Danhil..... right hand to blue... Go back there's a blue square between Aleksander's feet...." Maxim helped his younger brother out.  
Danhil was giggling constantly...... Aleksander could see his face, tilted upside down all the blood had gone to his head and he looked very red faced. It made his hair look even whiter.  
"Stop laughing Danhil..... you're going to fall over.... " Maxim said. "Nikolai your turn.... left hand on orange."  
"Easy," Nikolai said triumphantly. He sounded breathless.  
"Aleksander it's your turn... Wow Aleksander you got the double..... both feet on green....."  
Aleksander slid both feet out sideways his whole body arched underneath Danhil's..... "I did it," he panted. For a joyful moment it seemed he had... he could hear the other two boys laughing breathlessly..... Then his hands began to slide away from him with increasing speed.... one knocked into Nikolai's foot and the boy wobbled and bumped into his brothers hip, Denhil toppled sideways....his body hit Aleksander's raised bottom and within seconds all three boys were in a sprawling heap upon the mat ....  
"Sorry.... sorry!" Aleksander said as soon as he could sit up. He could see Nikolai rubbing the back of his head with one hand where a knee had banged into him.  
Maxim was howling with laughter.... " Are you kidding? That was the best collapse ever!"  
"Lets try again....Ilya's laughing, " Nikolai said with a huge toothy grin.  
Ilya was making rattling wheezing sounds that were nothing like any laugh Aleksander had ever heard.  
"Come on Aleksander! Play again." Danhil said excitedly 

Sasha was sipping an iced coffee and watching the children play from behind the privacy of his sunglasses when Alexei walked onto the roof terrace. He watched as Danhil tried to intercept and talk to his father only for Alexei to walk past the smiling child with barely a word.  
Sasha left standing up to the last moment as he always did and closed his eyes as Alexei kissed him on the lips in the traditional greeting. Though Alexei's tongue probed his mouth it was over fast.  
"Make me a Pimms." Alexei ordered.  
Sasha added ice and mixed Pimms with lemon-lime soda in a tall chilled pitcher before adding slices of orange, cucumber , some strawberries and several sprigs of fresh mint. He carried it and a glass over to the table on a tray and set it down before taking his seat.  
"Take off the sunglasses, " Alexei said as soon as Sasha had sat himself back down. "Or have you thoughts you need too hide from me?"  
Sasha removed the sunglasses without comment and placed them upon the table even though the sun was now in his eyes.  
"Why is _he _here?" Alexei barely looked towards Ilya as he spoke... now Sasha had removed the sunglasses he watched him for any sign of a reaction.... .__  
"Ilya enjoys the sun," Sasha said.  
"Does he? It's hard to tell. Did he drool more or less?" Alexei took a sip of his drink and watched Sasha's mouth tighten at the derogatory words...  
"He enjoys the same things as any other child, " Sasha said.  
"He is nothing like a normal child." Alexei said cruelly.

____

Alexei watched Aleksander take his turn at calling out the colours..... "I wonder what Charles will say when he learns his son is more of an Omega than he is an Alpha.... " As always he probed , looking for a weakness.  
"They are just children..... playing," Sasha said even though he knew he should have let the comment pass unremarked.  
"They are Omega children..... Georgi tells me Aleksander and he argued?" Alexei sounded pleased.  
Sasha found himself defending Sherlock's son. "Aleksander is five.... Georgi is bigger and older.... He bullies and Matvei agrees with everything he says."  
" So? Georgi is бычить. Would you have him be a whining Omega? " Alexei dismissed his mates complaint. 

Sasha fell silent as he saw Aleksander and Nikolai running towards them.  
"Hello Aleksander," Alexei acknowledged the Alpha child.  
"Hello.... " Aleksander said. His voice was excited and happy.  
" Hello Papa..... Mama can Aleksander stay for lunch? Please say yes...." Nikolai asked in a rush.  
Sasha knew it to be a mistake as soon as the child asked him....  
"Why do you ask your Mama and openly disrespect me?" Alexei said. "Am I invisible?"  
Nikolai flushed as the happiness in his face was replaced by anxiety. "I didn't mean to be rude Papa..."  
"I think that you did. Am I not the Master of my own house and all in it?" Alexei said. "Everything you have you only have because I bought it for you... know your place."  
Sasha saw the pink humiliation on his son's face. "Nikolai is your son too ." The defensive words brought Alexei's focus back towards him as he knew they would.

"Stand up.... "  
Sasha kept his expression carefully blank as he stood.  
"I'm sorry Papa," Nikolai said but although Alexei's eyes flickered towards the child he did not acknowledge his apology .  
"Pour the pitcher over your own head Sasha, " Alexei said.  
The innocent game and the laughter stopped...  
All the children watched as Sasha raised the glass pitcher up and tipped it over his own head..... alcohol, ice. mint , fruit and all cascaded down over his white blonde hair and he closed his eyes against the cold sting of the alcohol as it soaked into his white shirt and ran in rivulets down his trousers to soak into the white fabric of his shoes...... 

When the pitcher was empty Sasha replaced it on the silver tray and stood soaked and motionless.  
His dark eyes stared at the skyline as he waited.  
A single wet sprig of mint remained on Sasha's belt. Alexei brushed it away with one finger .... "You amuse me Sasha.... You really do.... " Alexei took a thoughtful sip of his drink. "All these years and you still put too much mint in a Pimms..... "

Alexei glanced at Aleksander , the child's face was troubled . Charles was right, the boy really did have Sherlock's eyes.... "You may stay for lunch if your Fader agrees," he spoke as though nothing had happened.  
Aleksander looked at Sasha and then at the ground where pieces of fallen fruit and ice still scattered the ground around Sasha's wet shoes..... He avoided looking at Nikolai, who was stood stiffly alongside him.... "I don't want too stay . I want to go home," he said.......


	84. The Seed Of Triumph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's nerves are getting the better of them as they arrive to head back into Bond Court .  
> Mary meets The Team and immediately sets about placing them under additional pressure.  
> Faced with a difficult situation Aric Weber and Mycroft have little choice but ask to speak with the Legate on Sherlock's behalf....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALWAYS SEEK OUT THE SEED OF TRIUMPH IN EVERY ADVERSITY  
> OG MANDINO
> 
> Mycroft's reaction will be explained more in the next update.... not sure what happened to that section in the upload but some of it is missing.... I'll have to rework it in when I have time today.... 
> 
> The track is See How by Young Fathers.

" Pull over" Sherlock said with sudden desperation. The driver didn't need to be told twice......  
Alan was around the car in seconds as Sherlock tore off his seatbelt and threw wide the car door.... he had barely swung both legs out before he was violently sick.  
Mycroft tried not to breathe in the sour unpleasant smell of vomit now filtering in through the wide flung car door, in the hope of avoiding his own negative associations with it. He glanced quietly at his watch then looked up as Sherlock made yet another miserable retching sound; expecting to see Alan still patting his brother's hunched back .... instead he found Alan Riddick was looking _his _way with a disapproving stare. "Is there a problem?" he said.__  
Alan shook his head "Sorry if Sherlock being that mithered he has to puke his guts up is putting your timing out," he said.  
Mycroft refused to correct Alan's erroneous assumption knowing the real reason behind it lay in the man's concern for Sherlock's health..... in truth everyone was feeling the pressure of their return to court. Even Aric Weber seemed to have been affected and had texted to say he had been delayed and would meet them at the court instead.

__

Back inside the plush silence of the moving car Sherlock kept his eyes closed and his head tilted back against the headrest. He looked pale and clammy.  
"I shouldn't have eaten so many cakes," he said to nobody in particular.  
This bout of vomitous dread was down to more than cake consumption. Mycroft looked at the nervous tension in his brother's cramped fingers as they gripped the edge of the car seat and without a word reached out and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze.  
"Is it best if I keep my eyes closed and don't acknowledge you did that?" Sherlock's quiet voice still made Alan turn his head to see what was going on between both Holmes brothers , his eyes dropped unerringly to the caring gesture before turning away again.  
"That would probably be the least embarassing option for us both," Mycroft admitted, knowing full well he'd already been seen.

Aric Weber had collected his files and was heading down to await his client when his phone alerted him to a new video message entitled simply... Zidney ..... He smiled at the spelling mistake and opened it to see Sidney the cat chasing a feather on a string across the kitchen floor to a soundtrack of Aprielle's laughter  
As Aprielle had intended it was a relief for Aric to know that his Omega was happy.  
Now he could concentrate on winning the biggest challenge of his career.

There was a long line of cars heading in, with two uniformed policemen directing the traffic.  
Riddick had never seen so many Elite Alpha thronging the narrow arched entry way and making their way into its inner courts.  
"Shall I pull up in front of the steps as usual sir?" the driver checked to see what Mycroft wanted.  
"You would be the expert in this area.... what do you advise?" Mycroft deferred to Riddick's high level of experience as a body guard.  
"I don't like the look of it.... I say pull up as far to the left as we can and go up on the Omega side of the steps not the middle. Keep some distance between Sherlock and that lot," Alan said. There was never anyone on the lad's side of the steps.

Their car barely moved, edging slowly through the narrow entrance, amid the constant stream of Elite Alpha heading into the quad alongside them.... As they emerged into the walled in courtyard there was a series of loud angry bangs upon the car roof.... someone had clearly recognised the car as being the one the Holmes brothers used....

"Ruddy Hell...." Alan said as soon as he got a clear view of the court steps....  
Sherlock didn't open his eyes. "What's going on?"  
"Open your eyes Sherlock," Mycroft urged him.  
"Why?" Sherlock said warily.  
"Take a look lad," Riddick said.  
Sherlock blinked his thick lashed eyes open.  
As always the right side of the court steps were thronged with Alpha there to support Charles right to regain the Omega he'd paid for and bonded......  
On the left side of the steps.... which was normally empty.... stood a determined group of 20 Omega.  
Sherlock stared at them from behind the tinted window of the car, drinking in infomation at a rate of knots.... "There's never been so many people on our side of the steps before," he said.  
"Ten more than were here previously " Mycroft said.  
" That's a lot, " Sherlock said.... 

 

"There's somebody with John....." Mycroft said.  
There was a woman with John that Sherlock had never seen before.  
"John's lady friend is it? " Alan's voice asked.  
"Mary, " Sherlock said. "Is that fake fur? It has to be doesn't it? John wouldn't date somebody who wore real fur.."  
"Fake.... notice the slight static from collar to her hair , brother?" Mycroft took his own appraising glance. "The pastel outfit combined with the heart necklace would indicate an optimistic if somewhat weak personality," he offered his opinion.  
Sherlock watched Mary produce an adoring/ simpering smile and lay a hand on John's arm..... even from inside the car the gesture seemed a little posssessive in a girlish way. That was strange given that she shared John with Saul.  
"A claiming gesture.... but mixed in with that upward gaze wihich is faux submissive it indicates vulnerabilty....." Mycroft couldn't help but show off, this was his field of expertise after all. He'd trained in espionage at the highest level and could interpret body language effortlessly....  
"Says unhinged to me. Mate of mine had a wife was forever pawing at him like that.... she turned out to be a fruitcake who dosed his tea with laxatives every saturday nght when he wanted to go out down the pub. Bloke spent half of every weekend on the toilet...." Alan said.  
"How did he find out?" Sherlock always wanted the full facts.  
"Found the laxatives in the biscuit barrel under a packet of lemon puffs.... A jealous woman can be tricky." Alan said sagely. He thought he'd told Sherlock the story before but avoided saying so...  
Mycroft sighed.... just occasionally it would be pleasant if Sherlock still showed the same rapt attention to his measured and educated opinion as he did to Alan's lively anecdotes. 

Sherlock had never got out of the car to face such a big audience of friendly faces before..... He still didn't quite know what he was meant to do when people he'd never met before greeted him with smiles as though they were friends.... It was easy with the Alpha who hated him, you just didn't look their way and kept walking but _this _kind support felt like he ought to acknowledge it in some way..... Smiling felt too much..... waving was absurd.....The idea of speaking even more so.....but he couldn't think of another option.... "Alan?" he said nervously.__  
"I'm here," Alan answered in a low voice, reminding Sherlock he was only a step away.

At the front of the small cluster of Omega stood the elderly couple who'd stood up in support of Sherlock inside the intimidating vaulted space of the bond court before.  
"Hello Sherlock," Raymond said with a broad friendly smile. "We invited along a few friends along. I hope its not too intimidating?"  
Louis had lost even more weight.... his was a face dominated by planes of bone and sunken muscle and there were dark purple shadows beneath the exhausted eyes that smiled proudly when they saw Sherlock.  
Sherlock knew even before he saw the worry in Raymond's careful eyes. Louis cancer was back.....  
"These.... steps..... lonely..... place...." Louis said, he looked to Raymond to continue. "Remember."  
"We both thought you deserved to see some friendly faces. We'll posted the court date up on our Facebook group... We had to hire a mini bus..... so many said they wanted to come along." Raymond added.  
Sherlock put his arms around Louis first and gave him a careful hug..... "Thank you," he said "Thank you so much."  
"Don't you cry!" Louis voice was barely audible....  
Raymond's scent was a mix of tea and seaside air....with a faint hint of mint humbugs. It was a comforting old fashioned scent. The words he spoke against Sherlock's ear were meant for him only.... " Win for him Sherlock. He needs some hope to keep going for."  
"I will," Sherlock promised.

"I imagine my brother has you to thank for this supportive gesture?" Mycroft said to John, he was surprised when John shook his head.  
"How's Sherlock holding up?" John kept his voice down as he asked Mycroft.  
"He barely is. Though Alan claims he'll be less affected once things get underway."  
John doubted that as the first of Charles Magnussen's onimous cavalcade of black cars arrived.

John kept his arm round Mary as he made the introductions..... "Mary this is Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock.... and Alan Riddick....."  
Mary smiled at everyone equally brightly. "I really wanted to come and show my support.... John says its been _so _intimidating out here...."__  
Alan waited for Mycroft to say something gracious and polite, a bit like the Queen would.... but Mycroft seemed to be waiting for Sherlock to speak up and the lad looked to have been struck dumb by the sight of a woman ..... "Nice to meet you lass," he said and stuck out a hand.  
"That's a strong Northern accent?" Mary said brightly..... God he'd be impossible to strangle with a wire garrote, unless you could concuss him first with a good blow to the head and bring him down onto his knees, you'd need a ladder to reach..... he had to be almost 7 foot tall.  
"Up Yorkshire way." Alan answered vaguely.  
Mary smiled, Charles had told her he'd always thought Riddick wanted to forget his past.... and knowing full well what type of a miserable dysfunctional home Alan Riddick had come from, she decided to have a little dig and see what he did.... "The Dales are so beautiful!" she said. "My parents went there on honeymoon. Its all so picture perfect."  
Alan's upper lip straightened..... unknowingly giving away his unease with the topic. "Aye.... some parts are," he said and turned his attention back to Sherlock.  
Not a man who lied readily then, he preferred deflection.... a weakness like that was useful for Milne to know.

"Hello Sherlock..... John's told me so much about you." Mary stepped closer to Sherlock and watched Alan's eyes move to watch her every action...... "It's lovely to put a face to the name at long last. Aren't you pretty!" Easy to see why Magnussen wanted his Omega back.... his face was perfection.  
Sherlock couldn't bring himself to say it was nice to meet her because honestly it was more unsettling...... Something about her enthusiastic friendliness just felt off.... If he wasn't so worn out from being sick he'd know what it was..... Why had John bought her here? Now she'd hear whatever was said about him in court...

"You must excuse my brother " Mycroft intervened when Sherlock failed to speak. "Sherlock's been car sick. "  
"You alright Sherlock? " John's concern was immediate. "Do you need to sit down?"  
While Mary watched Alan, Sherlock was frantically emptying a cupboard in his mind that was crammed full of insignificant useless details that had nevertheless made it over the threshold and into his memory.  
Where had he seen Mary before....?  
Morgue? No. Hotel? No. Hospital? Possible she's a nurse after all. Unlikely she'd be stored in this particular cupboard though....  
Court? 100% no. Aric Weber's office? No.....  
In Yorkshire? Don't be ludicrous Sherlock!  
Where of all the places that he had been did that leave unchecked..... and suddenly he knew.  
The temporary receptionist at Rob Hardcock's clinic....  
The hair was different and she'd taken off the glasses and altered her make up.... She'd made 15 small changes to her appearance.... both small and large.... since then that he could note but it hadn't worked. He'd still recognised her!  
Slowly amid his self congratulations Sherlock became aware that everyone was staring at him....he shook his head to clear his mind ...."I'm fine.... it was the cakes. You were right I should'nt have eaten them..... they were sickly sweet...." he couldn't help glancing at Mary as he spoke.....  
"Oh gosh...."Mary said and let her eyes fall down to Sherlock's belly knowingly, though in truth had she not already been told otherwise, she would never have guessed he was with child. "Pregnancy cravings are hilarious aren't they?"  
There was a horrified silence.  
Sherlock opened his mouth..... couldn't bring himself to deny Neep's existance and closed it again....  
Mary looked at Sherlock.... "When are you due?" she said. 

At the bottom of the steps out of earshot of anyone else.....A shocked John laid out the facts while Mary hid her smile knowing she'd successfully rocked the Team to the core as per Magnussen's instructions.  
"You can't say anything Mary.... the way bond law works they'll be serious trouble. Sherlock's health hasn't been good..... all the way through the pregnancy has been touch and go....." John couldn't believe this, nobody had noticed Sherlock was pregnant before but maybe they'd grown complacent and hadn't noticed the bump had grown too big to hide because they saw it every day......  
"I'm so sorry John. I feel terrible..... I wouldn't have said anything but it was so obvious.... I'd no idea it was a secret...." Mary made sure she sounded mortified.  
" Don't blame yourself, you weren't to know.... Thank God you said something before we went into Court, that would have been a bigger disaster"  
Mary laid a small sympathetic hand on John's chest...

Mycroft Holmes deceptively polite voice came from behind her..... " If I could wait with Mary, John..... Sherlock is asking for you....." He waited until John had stepped away and was headed back up the stone steps with his determined limp before returning his attention to Mary...  
"I'm so sorry , I didn't know he wasn't telling people yet....." Mary lied.  
The eyes that Mycroft fixed her with were so astutely all seeing it was hard not to panic and look away . "Miss Morstan... You are to wait ten minutes during which time you will confine yourself to small talk with John and avoid all mention of pregnancy. You will then receive a text from someone employed by me ..... following that text you will make your excuses to us all claiming that an unexpected offer of agency work calls you away.... You will go directly to the car parked outside the main gates where you will sign a non disclosure agreement concerning my brother's condition...... It is legally binding of course.... however.... should I find out that you've foolishly discussed what you learnt here today with anyone, I have other _less _legal options available to ensure a more permanent and total discretion that I will not hesitate to use..... Have I made myself sufficiently clear?"__  
Mary widened her eyes. There was a whole other side to Mycroft Holmes.... she knew a genuine threat when she heard one. The polite deadly surety in the man's voice was more intimidating than any anger ....."I would never say anything....." she began....  
"Run along..." Mycroft said and watched her eyes change at the dismissal. It was very revealing as he'd expected it would be.  
What had John Watson got himself into? 

____

As the court began to fill up the ushers bustled everywhere.  
"Big day today..... the steps were crowded...." One of the other judges stopped to speak to Mungo in a low aside as he made his way down the stairs.  
Mungo gave a derisory snort.... " 20 Elite Omega out there in support of the Holmes boy so I heard.... five more than the first protest."  
"This impudence will spread like wildfire if we let it.... We're relying on you..... Magnussen may be an unpleasant individual but it's essential his Omega is returned to him."  
"Leave it to me...." Mungo said. "I'm not about to see centuries of tradition torn down by one ignorant brat who dislikes a knot in his arse."

The Legate was robed and ready to go down when there was a knock at his chamber doors..... "See who that is, " he said.  
"It's Aric Weber M'lord.... he'd like an audience for himself and Mycroft Holmes before the court convenes. "  
The Legate was interested. What was this about?..... " I can't see them privately without Mr Milne and Charles Magnussen also being present, as Herr Weber knows well..... Do we have his agreement to include Charles Magnussen and Mr Milne in any discussion?"  
"We do Sir. Mr Magnussen's car has just arrived. I believe Mr Milne has stepped out to fetch Mr Magnussen himself"  
"Has he?..... Tell me when they are here." the Legate said with some relish . "Lets find out what the unorthodox Herr Weber has to say for himself this time, shall we." 

As soon as he left his chaffeur driven car to a rising tide of applause from the throng of Alpha gathered on the right hand side of the court steps, Charles Magnussen's hungry eyes sought out The Team. Unusually there was no sign of Mycroft Holmes or Aric Weber, although John Watson's golden hair and straight backed military stance was easily spotted  
As always Sherlock was within touching distance of Alan Riddick .... the bodyguard's muscled height made him instantly recognisable. The employment of that man was the single biggest mistake of Charles life and he took a moment to stare balefully at the man... . 

Riddick turned around to monitor the situation as the Alpha filling the high walled quad began the traditional deafening stamp of their feet against step and cobbles .... Charles could tell the second Sherlock saw him through the crowd as the Elite Omega looked sharply away and edged closer to the safety provided by Alan Riddick.  
That bad habit of avoiding his eyes from his lawful dominus would require a sharp and consistent physical correction and Charles indulged himself for a moment, imagining himself doing just that, when he became aware of Milne, his legal brief, hurrying down the steps towards him.

"The Legate requests we join him in his Chambers.... Weber and Holmes have asked for a meeting...." Milne explained as he ushered Charles through a small side door and up a narrow flight of steps. "Have you any idea what this could be about Charles?"  
Bearing in mind Mary's instructions to 'reveal' Sherlock's pregnancy and unsettle the Omega and his support network just before today's hearing began , Charles knew full well that was likely to be the cause..... " I have no idea," he lied seamlessly. "Perhaps Mycroft has seen sense and wishes to return his brother to my care finally."  
Milne's smile was confident . "We'll achieve that for ourselves regardless of his well meaning meddling," he said. "Our Austrian friend Herr Weber has had an easy passage to date but today the gloves finally come off. We'll soon have Sherlock back where he belongs. "  
"I'm looking forward to bringing him home," Charles said.  
"And keeping him there? "  
"That goes without saying, " Charles replied and Milne laughed.... .

That cruelly amused laugh was the first warning Mycroft Holmes had that Charles Magnussen was almost upon them. "Are you certain this is our best option now?" he asked Aric .  
Ahead of Magnussen an usher hurried down the corridor and disappeared into the Legates rooms.  
Weber was measured. "We now have no choice . We admit the pregnancy and deny any knowledge of the father's identity, as agreed....it will enable us to stall that particular revelation until the birth. Since the pregnancy is now noticeable it would be suicidal to our hopes if we enter the Court without bringing it to the Legate's attention ourselves."  
"I will not allow that man to take Sherlock from my care for a second time" Mycroft watched the insufferable, hateful arrogance in Charles face as the man walked towards them.  
" As the wise King Solomon once said....' A friend loveth for all times and a brother is born for adversity. " Aric said and rose to his feet as the doors to the Legate's chambers opened.  
"I prefer the words of Og Mandino..... let us seek out the seed of triumph ." Mycroft said. 

______ _ _


	85. Open Warfare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Court begins to fill up the three Bond Court Judges talk privately about the case and Sherlock's pregnancy . 
> 
> Sherlock needs a minute..... ends up doing something he shouldn't in a place that he shouldn't and provokes a reaction that shows everyone the other side of Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK first.... Sorry for the delay. Turns out doing a whole week's worth of laundry in a day and a food shop took up more time than I estimated.
> 
> Pater... father.
> 
> Blue the track is The War by SYML.

"The Holmes boy's pregnant and the brother claims he has no idea who fathered the bastard.... A likely story," Mungo sneered. "No wonder Charles Magnussen is frothing at the mouth."  
"Quite...." The Legate said thoughtfully. "I'm disappointed, this ought never to have happened whilst Sherlock was under supervision...."  
"It wouldn't surprise me if elder Holmes wasn't sleeping with younger. It'd explain why he is so damn set on keeping the Omega from Magnussen...." Mungo pulled no punches. The Legate's disapproving frown at the coarseness of the assumption was noted and Mungo defended his assumption. "You may not like the idea of incest Aubyn but you'll admit Mycroft Holmes is unusually attached?"  
The Legate shook his head. "Siger Holmes was a singularly demanding and harsh man..... by all accounts. The elder brother took on more responsibility and care for the younger than is the norm in a family."  
The third Judge Bunty made a personal admission. "Its easily done. I myself almost did the same.... Younger Omega brother you know; he didn't much like the chap Pater had arranged his bond with..... came to me asking for me to intercede.... Damnable thing. Very awkward.... one doesn't like to let a brother down.... You know how it is... childhood memories....." His voice faded away as he took another mouthful of tea.  
"The match went ahead?" The Legate was curious.  
"Oh yes. Pater took me aside had a quiet word," Bunty said. "I hadn't realised I was over stepping my brotherly limits until he pointed it out...."

"The bond? If you've no objection to my asking Nigel...... Is your brother content in it?" The Legate asked.  
"Oh...there was never time for him to grow into the bond . He died of sepis following childbirth.... Terrible thing for all concerned. He was a gentle little chap." Bunty helped himself to a top up of his tea.  
"You can blame that on the narrow pelvis of a typical Omega, Nigel.... You can see it in the Holmes boy. He lacks the hips for childbirth....." Mungo said. "God knows I've had my share of twink boys die screaming round a head that they can't push out ..... Baby was jammed in there like a cork with my first Omega..... Learnt my lesson after two losses and went for a broader hipped mate. Granted Donal'll win no beauty awards but he whelps without a fuss. Fertile too.... twins and he's pregnant again already...."  
The Legate sat in reflective silence listening to Mungo talk..... Sherlock seemed fertile enough despite his build.... " Magnussen's heavy hand is responsible for two of the miscarriages at least." The Legate gestured towards the neatly stacked files on his desk. "You've seen the documentation. Hard to see how anyone can claim otherwise."

"The Holmes brat's a sexy little tart. Don't let those big blue eyes take you in Legate. He admitted to snogging two Alpha since his bond. .... You can't blame Magnussen for attempting to pull him back into line. The man's in lust and the Holmes Omega wants any Alpha but his lawfully bonded one," Mungo rejected any idea that Charles violence was underserved.  
"Bunty? I'm prone to give the Holmes boy some leeway. There's no doubt Charles mistreated his Omega from the start surely or are you prone to side with Mungo?" The Legate asked for the other man's imput.  
Bunty saw Mungo shaking his head and waited for the man to stop before replying. "An Elite Omega is much the same as a gundog, don't you know? Regardless of how good the pedigree is, if you're heavy handed you'll only ruin any promise of a sound temperament it had. Beaten dog becomes nervous , you see? No good to anybody once that happens. You can see it in the Holmes boy.... he jumps every time Magnussen speaks.... "  
Mungo laughed. ... "So much for the famed Holmes lineage. The mother was half mad and the son's highly strung.... So who is responsible for this pregnancy do you think .... if its not the brother? I'd lay odds on the doctor? He was at school with the Holmes Omega wasn't he?"  
"I'd say it's the bodyguard...." Bunty said.  
Mungo laughed aloud at the notion. "A common man like that? Don't be absurd! Sherlock's Elite after all, even he has standards! It'll be Doctor Watson."  
"Dr Watson isn't Elite either...." Bunty pointed out.  
"Good God that's right.... I'd completely forgotten he's a sham as well despite the right accent. That's what comes of educating Common alongside Elite." Mungo said dismissively.

 

"Have to say I wouldn't want to be in Charles Magnussen's shoes. If he gets his Omega back what can he do with an illegitimate baby?" Bunty was matter of fact.  
"He'll find out who fathered it if he's any sort of an Alpha and see them sentanced. Bloody rapist needs locking up!" Mungo said forcefully.  
"Once the baby's born he's fully within his rights to demand a court supervised DNA test. Milne made it clear that he will do that within 24 hours of any birth. He'll press criminal charges of course once he knows." The Legate knew it to be unavoidable.  
"Magnussen's Omega has been raped and bred by whom ever had their cock inside him...... which ever way you look at it.... " Mungo's Scottish accent rolled the R sound of the word rape. "You can't insult the man by expecting him to bring another man's spawn home and let Sherlock raise it. The idea's an insult! "

"What do you suggest becomes of the baby, Mungo?" The Legate asked. "If the mother can't care for his own child?"  
"Can't imagine an Elite family would be willing to adopt a mixed child...." Mungo was cruelly blunt.  
"Perhaps a Common family would be more suitable if one could be found ..... If it's Omega and takes after the mother it should be a pretty child..."  
The Legate shook his head. " Magnussen and Mycroft would have to agree for that too happen."

"The bastard is none of our concern.... its not one of us. Return Magnussen's Omega to him and let him move on from there." Mungo saw no other choice.  
"He'll kill the unborn child..... possibly the mother as well...." The Legate was no fool. He had Charles Magnussen's measure already. "Imagine the headlines if Magnussen beats his pregnant Omega to death after we 'reconcile' them?"  
"i doubt it. The man's lust will get the better of him before that happens." Mungo offered another suggestion. "Why not order Mycroft to make his appologies to Charles and offer to provide a home for the brother's bastard. "  
Bunty thought aloud...." It could distract him from the loss of his brother.... provide a focus..... The baby would stand a chance of a decent life of sorts and Magnussen gets his mate back without an illegitimate encumbrance. "  
"You'd send Sherlock back then?" The Legate sought answers.  
" I would . Let Magnussen get him back in line. Set the correct tone for any other Omega who fancies absconding from a lawful bond." Mungo said firmly.  
"And if Magnussen kills Sherlock in the process?" The Legate made sure he kept his tone neutral.  
"Oh .... well.... we'd bear no responsibilty from the point of his return legally ." Mungo spoke with a calm cruelty.  
"Bit harsh." Bunty was taken aback.

" I can't condone that... the press would have a field day" The Legate spoke openly.  
"A forced termination then?" Mungo suggested it. "Have a court appointed doctor look at the Holmes boy and see if its possible. Who knows he may even be relieved to be helped out of his predicament. Could it be safely done?"  
"Mycroft claims its past that stage." The Legate mulled it over.  
"He would say that wouldn't he? Get the little tart in here , tell him to strip some clothes off and take a look at him yourself.... that's my advice Aubyn. I've seen enough pregnant Omega to know the body signs. Puffy tits are the giveaway...." Mungo yawned.... "I'd be happy to take a look , second opinion so to speak..... "  
"That won't be necessary." The Legate said firmly .

 

Sherlock stood and watched Alpha after Alpha file through the tall doors that led to the court. "I wish they'd hurry up.... I need to pee before we go into court."  
" Your brother and Aric aren't back yet."  
" So? I don't need Mycroft's permission to urinate! " Sherlock was snappy.  
"Right.... " Alan said. "I'll have a word with the usher as we go in."  
"Now... I need to pee now not when we go into court." Sherlock said impatiently as Neep poked and kicked inside him.  
Alan felt like the man who brings a cute puppy home to his appartment on the 6th floor then realises the nearest dog friendly park is a block away across a busy road. He stepped in front of the first harried looking usher he could see and only realised his set face showed his rising tension when he saw the startled look of worry in the usher's face.... "Sorry..... Sherlock needs to pee before we go in. Any chance you can let us in through another door?"

At the end of a quiet narrow corridor behind the court the usher opened an unmarked door then led them both through a small room full of stacked chairs to the toilet and stood aside. He'd avoided looking at Sherlock on the way there and hadn't spoken .  
Alan insisted on checking out the tiny toilet with its high grilled window before letting Sherlock finally close the door. "I'll be right outside the door," he promised as Sherlock slid the lock across.  
Left alone Sherlock stood in the tightly confined space and fought down the urge to crouch down into a ball and stay there forever. It'd be impossible to bend round Neep anyway....  
Mycroft must have told them all by now.  
Which means Charles knows.  
And the Legate knows.  
When I go into the court Charles'll be looking. Trying to see proof.  
Trying to see Neep....

Sherlock pulled at the all covering bagginess of his charcoal grey jumper to see if he could tell he was pregnant if he was looking at himself with a strangers eyes. He didn't think so...  
Stupid pastel Mary and her accidental on purpose blabbermouth!  
' _When are you due? _' None of your sodding business is when , as Alan would say!__  
He smoothed the wool jumper down over himself and just looked at the obvious difference in his shape....  
Oh! If it wasn't covering Neep anyway then what was the point of wearing it.... He tugged the jumper roughly over his head and tossed it away up by the small wash basin.  
In the mirror on the wall he confronted the changes pregnancy had made to his body.  
A thin navy t shirt was now all that would stand between Neep and Charles eyes.... If he had a suit of body armour on it still wouldn't feel safe enough but there was no more point in pretending .

____

 

"Alright in there, Sherlock? " Alan's familiar voice came through the closed door. He gave the door a tap...."You've been a good 10 minutes....?"  
As opposed to a bad 10 minutes? Sherlock slid the lock back wordlessly...  
Alan's head poked round the door to see Sherlock stood there looking overwhelmed and the cover all jumper thrown up by the sink ...."Oh crap!" he said and the Usher stood next to him turned his head sharply to try and see what was wrong. They needed more privacy... . "Budge up lad. I'm coming in."  
Sherlock didn't think it was possible for them both too fit in such a small space but here they were, both of them crammed into a tiny toilet that barely had room enough for one.  
There was a toilet brush next to Sherlock's foot and the small sink was wedged uncomfortably under Alan's muscled arse. The firm rise of Neep's body inside Sherlock's own was pressed against Alan's groin, Sherlock's high cheekbone was against Alan's chest and Riddick's firm legs bracketed his own.  
"He knows... he knows about Neep...." _Please say something to make that situation change Alan _.  
"Sssh .... Sssh.... Over my dead body will he ever hurt Neep." Alan said it over and over .... __

____

 

Mycroft stared at the empty space where Sherlock and Alan usually preferred to stand and wait with a sinking , stomach clenching feeling of dread.  
John was helping Raymond support Louis up the steep steps of the court. The climb was making Louis see a dark shadowing around the edges of his vision.... the challenge of the extra oxygen needed stressing his already frail body to its limits.  
"John... where is Sherlock?" This was no time for pleasantries.  
"Over by the wall," John looked as he said it and realised Sherlock was missing. "Or he was...."

Mycroft Holmes stood and watched the court ushers searching for his brother scatter like headless chicken.  
John's brow crinkled..... "Did you tell Sherlock to stay with Alan?"  
"Of course!" Mycroft said with irate precision.  
"They won't have left the building," John said.  
"The last time Alan Riddick disappeared with my brother they were gone for the better part of a year.... you'll forgive me if I don't share your confidence John." Mycroft was surprised to find himself voicing his concerns instead of hiding them.  
John understood the worry.... " If he was going to ask Sherlock to run he'd have done it in the early days. Things are different now."  
Mycroft doubted it..... "They both chose to abscond before... Alan is facing a prison sentence, John."  
"He knows it's coming.... He'll see it as short term suffering for long term gain if it means he gets to be with Sherlock afterwards. Alan's pragmatic if he's nothing else." John knew that.  
Mycroft's clever eyes openly deduced him.... Does my brother know how you feel? He elected not to ask since the answer seemed so obvious.  
"What would be the point of telling him?" John said watching the deduction as it took place. "He's happy and he's in love. He doesn't deserve to feel guilty because I haven't found that person for myself yet."

In the tight space Alan and Sherlock were glued together .....  
"Remember the alley by the sex shop?" Sherlock asked softly. He could feel the beginning of the low chuckle Alan was about to give before he heard him laughing.  
"Aye.... your man in the harness in the middle of the shop .... Jesus but I was a bloody fool , taking you in there. Small wonder you lost your temper with me.... I can still see you sending that ruddy dildo whizzing down the street...."  
"The look that old woman gave you... like you were the worst sort of pervert she'd ever seen...." Sherlock could still see her judgemental face in his mind. He tilted his face back so he could see Riddick's face now.  
Alan was gazing down at him . "Good job she didn't see me in the alley." He couldn't help but remember the way he'd felt the slim shape of Sherlock's cock against his own solid thigh as his body had pressed Sherlock's back into the wall and the hopeless yearning lust he'd felt as he was torn between desires....

The deduction was an easy one given how close they were. Sherlock could tell Alan was thinking tenderly about the past by watching Riddick's throat as he swallowed then slid his gaze away towards the locked door as though just by thinking about that he could still be caught out by Charles... It was always easy to change love into arousal when they were this close..  
Sherlock trailed the tips of his fingers along Riddick's hairline, feeling the suprisingly baby soft warm skin behind the Alpha's ear. It was exactly the sort of tender touch he knew Alan loved......" I could feel your cock against me" he said. He leant in closer as he said it to let those suggestive words heat Alan's skin. To be sure of Alan's response he shifted sideways just enough to check by brushing his own hip bone against Riddick's groin and there it was .... enough fullness to tell him he was right, Alan was aroused..... and just like that he wanted to _really _feel it without some stupid suit pants and a M &S belt getting in his way! He wanted that unzipped heavy hardness in his hands and on his tongue ... before he faced court and before he had to see Charles.... __

"I still can feel it." Sherlock moved deliberately and let the firm fertile shape of his pregnant belly rub against Alan's thickening cock.  
_Was that too obvious? _He knew the touch was right the second Alan took a sharp breath in...__  
"Usher other side of the door...." Riddick's protest weakened as Sherlock mouthed at his neck and he lowered his head to kiss Sherlock fiercely before common sense fought back... "We can't lad.... not in a court toilet...."  
"Can..... Am..... Just watch me touch your cock...." Sherlock said against Alan's ear as his fingers closed round Riddick's zip and slid it down..... 

____

 

"He's in there, Sir."  
Inside the toilet Alan was stuffing his almost limp cock away at a frantic speed as Sherlock reached round him and ran one come filled palm under the tap calmly, as though there was no chance he'd be caught sticky handed any second now.....  
Outside Mycroft looked at the locked door as though it could provide any logical sort of explanation. "Both of them? In a single toilet? ..... My brother _and _Mr Riddick?"__  
"Yes, Sir." The Senior Usher remained polite although the situation was unorthodox.  
Mycroft inhaled slowly through his nose..... "" It must be an attack of nerves.... I can manage from here, thank you" he said.... "If you could wait in the corridor."

__

__

He hadn't even knocked when the locked toilet door opened.....  
Sherlock was stood on top of the closed toilet seat. The space was so small it was the only way the door could swing in and open, now Riddick was there....  
Mycroft watched the devotion in Alan's hands as he reached up to help Sherlock step down from a toilet seat as if Sherlock were Royalty and it was an ornate carriage.  
"Alright?" Alan awkwardly avoided making eye contact as he brushed past Mycroft's stare. A quick fire deduction told Mycroft he'd just done something he knew he probably shouldn't ...  
Mycroft's gaze moved unerringly to Sherlock... his hands had recently been washed... the skin between his fingers was still damp...  
Sherlock wiped his clean wet palm dry against his thigh...." Of course he is alright. Aren't you Mycroft? Come on Alan... we'll be late for court."

____

Mycroft had recovered from the revelation by the time they were outside the double doors into the packed court.  
"Put your sweater back on." Mycroft reminded Sherlock..... then, in a lowered voice to be sure only Sherlock heard him. "Masturbation in a toilet? Really Sherlock?.... Under the circumstances? That seemed a good idea to you?"  
Sherlock's inky dark lashed eyes didn't look away and he didn't put the jumper back on. "It's my body," he said. "And anything I do with Alan is my choice."  
"Yes but ...now?" Mycroft hissed disapprovingly. "Is that wise brother mine?"  
"Yes now," Sherlock's voice was quiet but he didn't whisper and he wasn't at all embarrassed as he stepped forward ready to follow Mycroft into the court room......"Because I wanted to...." _and because Charles will know I did and it'll be all he can think about... He isn't the only one who can play mind games _...__

____

Alexei was watching the doors. Waiting for Sherlock. He said nothing as Sherlock entered court but his eyes travelled down Sherlock's body until he saw the proof of the unborn child...  
"There's Alexei. I can't see... but Charles will be over there with him." Riddick said. The two Alpha were always stood together.  
Sherlock heard the muttered comments begin as soon as he was visible and watched as the news of Neep spread down the Alpha side of the packed court like a Chinese whisper, growing and corrupting as it went.  
One by one heads began to turn on both sides of the court.... He saw one Alpha tell another to look and watched the man's face change as a salacious awareness altered it.  
It looked a long way to walk before they'd reach Aric and John at the front of the crowded room.  
"Don't stop moving forward ..." Alan sounded worried.  
"I won't," Sherlock said. 

Even though Sherlock knew to expect a reaction from Charles he knew it would still come as a nasty shock.... like hearing the ice give way around your feet before you plunged through into a dark, unknown. He tried to prepare for it but the closer he got the worse he felt...  
In the open space before the Legate's raised chair a second group of dark suited Alpha was stood waiting for them....  
They didn't part until he was almost upon them and when they did Charles was stood in their middle..... He locked eyes on Sherlock , seeing the flushed swollen pink of his cheeks and lips.  
Sherlock knew precisely the moment when Charles realised exactly what had recently happened between the Omega and Alan....  
"You filthy slut! " Charles shouted. 

All around them Ushers were coming running towards them. Frantic to get between the opposing sides now they had realised there was a threat.  
Though he'd promised Alan he wouldn't stop walking and though he didn't mean too, it seemed Sherlock's feet hadn't got that memo....  
Mycroft reached for his brother's hand as John vaulted stiffly over the low wooden bench and came towards them fast through the throng of gawping unlookers hoping for punitive violence  
Unable to get to Sherlock Charles turned the fury of his focus on Riddick. "You bred my Omega! .... You filthy mongrel .... That's your bastard in him !.... Little more than a servant! "  
That livid voice had always meant a blow..... instinct made Sherlock flinch away towards Mycroft ....

"Move out the way!" Riddick stood his ground.  
Charles stepped forward instead.... "You're a dead man! I'll see you hang!" Flecks of bloody spittle covered Alan's throat as Charles fangs split open his own curled lip.....  
"You threatening me before witnesses? " Alan cocked his head back..... "Say it again then!" he goaded Charles.  
Charles head turned and he caught a flash of fear on Sherlock's bone white face as Mycroft wrapped both arms round Sherlock to shield him and Neep from harm. Alan turned his head to make sure Sherlock was OK, someone knocked deliberately into John's shoulder causing a flare of pain he reacted too and suddenly Charles surged forward to grab at Sherlock. Alan struck his arm away and the new bodyguard stood behind Charles reacted violently and punched out.... the two men tussled, staggering back and forth as Riddick thumped in low blows and fought to drive him back.  
The crowd behind Charles forced him closer to roar threats at his Omega ...... " I'll have your bastard cut from the womb ..... Stamped into the ground!... Food for my dogs!"  
John hit Magnussen before Alan could... knowing that if Alan headbutted Charles it he'd be impossible to stop before he killed the man . His driving uppercut sent Charles spinning, free falling backwards in an untidy sprawling of limbs.  
In the appalled shock of the aftermath, Usher after Usher grabbed the arms of both John and Alan and dragged them off amid shouting from the crowd. Amid all the shouting only Riddick's Yorkshire accent was instantly identifiable , shouting abuse at Charles in one long furious rant of rage. "You sick fucking... . You'll not touch him. Not ever! ... I'll rip your head off, and shove it so far up your sodding arse you'll not shit it out in a month of Sundays!.... I'll fucking kill you .. I'll fucking kill you! "

The Legate and his two supporting Judges had never arrived in his Court to such bedlam before.


	86. Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alan successfully find some common ground.
> 
> Sherlock and Mycroft realise just how corrupt some of the Bond Court judges are.
> 
> A secret is spilled and Sherlock's reaction leads to a conversation with the Legate.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed a few things with the story of the Titanic but the death/class statistics are correct...

John had never been down in the bowels of the medieval Court before. It lacked the small lead paned windows of the Elizabethan add on's to the building or the ornate faux medieval charm of the gothic changes made under the reign of Queen Victoria . Down below street level the narrow passageways still spoke of a conspiratorial and murky past which had seen people dragged outside to be beheaded in the quad that now was an immaculate lawn of bright emerald green.  
The usher unlocked the door with a huge key from a jangling ancient bunch and stood aside , speaking only when the other ushers moved to undo the handcuffs.... "Leave the cuffs on both of 'em."

Alan didn't even wait for the door to slam shut before crossing to one of the two beds and laying down on it facing the ceiling in silence. The rickety old metal frame squeaked alarmingly as he moved to pull the single thin pillow behind his head. "Bloody Hell," he said discontentedly.  
When he didn't say anything else John sat on the other equally rickety bed, rubbed at the ache in his tight thigh muscle and stared at the names carved into the old stone walls. 

Mycroft and Sherlock had been hurriedly ushered out from the court room through the hidden door usually used by the judges and now found themselves seated on a pair of high backed dark Jacobean chairs in a wide Elizabethan corridor full of stern faced busts.  
Mycroft's first concern was always for Sherlock .... but he took the trouble to show concern for both Alan and John. "I can ask the Legate if he can separate them both?" he offered.  
"It's fine.... " Sherlock seemed nonchalant about the prospect of his lover and his best friend being confined to the same holding cell beneath the court. "It'll give him and John a chance to talk and get to know each other...."  
"You aren't concerned that they may argue?" Mycroft asked.  
"No!" Sherlock gave a knowing smile. "Alan's always in a mellow mood right after we...."  
"Sherlock!" Mycroft intervened rapidly. "Please don't complete that sentence.... I am your brother after all!"  
Sherlock turned to look at him...." I thought now you and Greg were...?"  
Mycroft raised both brows with a scandalized look on his face and Sherlock stopped mid sentence.... "Not yet..." he said.

Sherlock stared at the inbred carved face of the bust directly opposite him. "Do you think Isambard really had those bushy eyebrows in real life?" he asked in a whisper.  
Mycroft pondered the question and the stone image of the Legate in question. "Probably even more unruly. I'm sure the sculptor would have tried to flatter and earn his fee." He found himself fighting to hide the indulgence in his voice. This was so unexpected.... in his mind he now saw he had believed Sherlock would focus solely on the temporary loss of Alan ... he hadn't expected this familiar feeling of brotherhood and shared memories to come flooding back instead.  
Sherlock gave an immature smirk. "Imagine being bonded to him. He looks like a human owl."  
Mycroft stared at the busts prominent hook nose.... "He does have a somewhat unfortunate nose..."  
"We should paint his eyeballs yellow, like a real owl..." Sherlock was dying to laugh hysterically and let some of the tension that was pent up inside him out but the presence of the other person they were currently sharing the gallery with made that impossible. The elderly Usher had a mournful air about him that was exagerated by his black old fashioned court attire.  
"Don't you dare!" Mycroft hissed back.... it was all to easy to imagine an anarchic Sherlock doing just that. He couldn't entirely conceal the amused lift of his mouth..

Sherlock waited until the timing was perfect and Mycroft mistakenly began to relax his guard..... "Twit twooo," he gave an remarkable accurate impression of an owl and the Head Usher's head jerked around instantly. Sherlock switched on a well practised look of blue eyed innocence. "That sounded like an owl.... in the middle of London.... Wow....." he even managed to sound surprised.  
The Usher stood up and crossed to the window.... "Can't see it. Must be in the tree," he said leaning his head out.  
Sherlock gave Mycroft a bright eyed unpredictable smile. "Oh... what a shame. I've never seen a real one."  
Mycroft had been cast back into the past, recalling years of stiflingly oppressive family meals during which Sherlock's sole interest had seemed to lie in making him laugh inappropriately despite Siger's overbearing presence at the head of the table. As always he attempted to protect Sherlock from any possible fall out caused by his own reckless attempt to amuse himself..... "I think perhaps it was a dove cooing," he found himself saying.  
"A _dove _?" The incredulous Usher gave him much the same type of disappointed look Siger always had.... "No it was an owl Sir.... Your brother was right about that. He knows his birds...."__  
Mycroft knew better than to do it but he couldn't resist stealing a glance to see if the 'face' Sherlock had undoubtedly assumed since hooting like an owl looked as he imagined it would appear..... Of course it was far more absurd. Somehow Sherlock had managed to combine a faux modest acceptance of the compliment and a look of someone who was fascinated by birds into the one absurdly knowledgeable expression....  
It was simply too much..... Mycroft heard himself give a snort of laughter and was forced to disguise it as a fit of coughing.....  
" It could be the feathers....from the owl." Sherlock patted Mycroft sympathetically between the shoulder blades. His voice oozed faux concern. "My brother is allergic to birds. Could you please ask for some tea? That usually helps stabilise his um blood sugars...."he asked the elderly Usher in between Mycroft's spasmodic fits of coughing ..  
Mycroft felt like a total fraud as the man hurried to assist knowing his fit of uncontrollable coughing was caused entirely by his urgent attempts to control his laughter. " Some cake would help.... if its not too much trouble?" he said weakly and watched Sherlock give him a thumbs up sign behind the Ushers back. 

__

_____ _

John was staring at nothing when Alan spoke to him...."That was some right hook you got him with back in the court."  
John smiled quietly to himself. Nice to have it appreciated. "Shame it was just the one punch," he said ruefully.  
Alan kept his voice down low in case someone came in to see what was so funny. "One's the charm when its timed right. He went down like a skittle."  
"Weak jaw..." John relished in it. "I always thought he was a chinless wonder."

"Hope Sherlock's alright." Alan spoke aloud again.  
"Yeah, " John agreed, he'd been thinking the exact same thing. "What made you so late into Court?"  
Alan gave a secret smile knowing John couldn't see him.... "Usual...."  
"Toilet break?" John took a good guess.  
Alan hated lying but if he'd said what they'd been up too he'd probably be on the end of John's right hook himself...." He's forever needing to go even if he's just been..."he answered vaguely.  
"It's the hormones.... plus the bladder is pretty squashed at this stage."  
"Ruddy Hell...." Alan mulled it over. "I wouldn't want to be born Omega would you? The things they have to put up with...."  
"Me neither." John said. "Greg used to tell me some stories ....."  
"Had a lot of prejudice did he, in his line of work?" Alan remembered John saying that before.  
"God yeah!" John said with feeling. "You should ask him about it...." The things Greg had told him weren't his to share so he hesitated ....  
"Billy put up with more than his share of shite."  
John was always surprised to hear Alan mention his mate, however briefly..... having been to Alan's home town he could well imagine the situation.....  
"What Sherlock said.... that he'd be the first consulting detective..... that takes some guts..." Alan mulled it over aloud......  
"Typical Sherlock isn't it? He can't make them treat him equally so he invents a career nobody else ever had so that nobody can keep him from doing it...." John admired that way of thinking.  
"Aye.... " Alan agreed and fell silent to think about it some more. 

"You don't mind Sherlock not staying home?" John knew Sherlock Alan said he wouldn't have a problem with it but he had told Greg he had a traditional view of a bond. Whatever that meant?  
"No.... why would I? Long as he makes time for the other things in life. There's two children need their mother too...."  
John thought about Aleksander biting Sherlock.... and wondered should he say anything about why he thought it happened.  
"Aleksander....you've met him now ... I've not seen him in almost a year.... sounds like he changed a fair bit in that time...." Alan said and for the first time John heard concern in the other man's voice.  
"He's going to be a challenge.... " John didn't sugar coat it. "He loves Sherlock.... but he's needy.."

"He never had quality time with Sherlock. You saying you think with a new baby he'll feel left out .....or that he'll struggle to share his mum with me? I don't want him giving his mum a hard time because of it ."  
"Yeah. Both could be an issue.... He just needs to feel loved and secure."  
Alan sighed heavily.... "It's a lot for Sherlock to cope with on his own.... if things go that way with me and he's got to manage by himself for a time...."  
it was the first time John had ever heard Alan refer to the possibility of a criminal sentance taking him away from Sherlock and his child. "Will you be ok without him?" he asked.  
There was a pause.... "I'll have no choice if it comes to it." Riddick's voice was gruff with emotion.  
"We'll help as much as we can.... all of us.... Anything we can do.... for Sherlock _and _you to make it easier...." John promised._  
Alan's head turned to really look at John for the first time.... " I appreciate that, " he said. "It helps knowing._

__

____

 

Mycroft was enjoying a brief period of restored calm watching Sherlock attempt to move a coin fluidly between his fingers like a magician.... when he heard footsteps he assumed it was simply the Usher returning with the tea and cake Sherlock had requested.  
"What an unexpected pleasure." An Elite voice said. "Ought I congratulate you on your illegitimate child Sherlock? Under the circumstances perhaps not..."  
"I don't need or want your congratulations," Sherlock said stiffly.  
Mycroft was acutely aware of the still coin between his brother's suddenly frozen fingers. "What do you want Mr Milne?" he asked sharply.  
The Alpha took a seat with a smile, though it was clear he wasn't welcome to do so. "I would never have guessed you were with child Sherlock. You hid the signs so well.... When are you due or would you prefer not to admit to a due date to protect the father?"  
"I'd prefer it if you left." Mycroft made that very clear.  
"Would you? Why doesn't that surprise me? Such an intimate cosy tableau of brotherly love...."The sordid inference was clear. "I'm here to make you an offer Sherlock. You'd be wise to consider it given the change in your situation...."  
"My brother has no interest in anything you may wish to say on behalf of Charles Magnussen...." Mycroft dismissed it. Next to him he could feel Sherlock shaking.....  
Milne's focus was on Sherlock...... "Only a fool refuses to look at the cards in his opponents hand before he plays his own and I don't think Sherlock is a fool."  
The coin began to move again.... slowly travelling from one finger to the next as Sherlock spoke. "Say what you came here to say and leave."  
"Should you be returned to your Alpha you must realise what will happen to you? It would be a terrible waste."  
Sherlock looked up at him with dark inky eyes. "I'm not afraid of dying," he said.  
"No? Even now you when you will be a lone parent ? I must confess you surprise me....."  
Sherlock interrupted.... "I'm not going to be a lone parent. Why would you say that?"  
"You've said enough!" Mycroft could see no way to prevent this conversation from revealing all they had been at pains to keep hidden to protect Sherlock.  
Milne gave a sardonic laugh..... "The Father of that swelling belly of yours is legally guilty of rape. Charles will of course prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law."  
The coin hit the floor and lay spinning.... "That's not true." Sherlock said.  
Mycroft stepped on the coin unable to stand the noise any longer....  
" I assumed you knew.... I understand Herr Weber has cleared his schedule in preparation so he is available to act on the fathers behalf..... I don't envy him despite his undoubted legal ability..... multiple charges of grooming a minor and sexually abusing him after abducting him from a lawful bond will be the very Devil to defend and of course Mr Riddick has a past that will count against him. His first mate's mother has been most forthcoming ...."  
Sherlock was ashen.  
"Should you elect to sever your bond with Charles Magnussen yet agree to form a new bond with a suitable member of the Elite..... leniency could be shown..... A short incarceration for your rapist rather than a long one or the hangman's noose.... " He looked at the undisguised agony on Sherlock's face.... "If early parole is granted the child could be permitted to leave the country with its father.... I'm told America has a more tolerant outlook regarding hybrid children...."  
"America...." Sherlock sounded like he couldn't breathe.

Mycroft took control, unable to stay silent and watch Sherlock suffer..... "You are more treacherous than any snake. Which one of you wishes to bond my brother and replace Magnussen in his bed!" He was shaking with impotent anger.....  
"I don't personally of course ..." Milne seemed astounded by the accusation that he'd even consider such a thing.... "However an individual who would be prepared to consider a bond under those specific circumstances has made that clear to me and given me permission to speak on his behalf..... As a solution it meets the needs of both sides...."  
"Get out!" The voice that came from some deep never visited place inside Mycroft was a bark, sharp edged and savage. A well of anger he'd held inside him for years came boiling to the surface..... "Get out! You cockroach!"  
The insult bought the other man to his feet..... "Who do you think you are? Siger Holmes bitter disappointment of an Alpha son!"  
Mycroft was on his feet. white faced and furious yet dangerously still in the face of insult, betrayal and provocation. "Sherlock will never be bonded against his will again..... You sicken me.... you disgusting.... corrupt..... amoral procurer!"  
"Your brother carries a common whelp in his belly for any Elite Alpha to stoop to consider him is a kindness!" Milne pointed out.

" Sherlock!" Mycroft pulled at Sherlock's thin bicep with vice like fingers, urging him to his feet.... the pain of the hard grasp didn't even seem to reach the Omega..... there was a deadened stunned look on Sherlock's face unlike any he had ever seen before.  
Please be unlocked! Mycroft moved to the door.... towing Sherlock in his wake. Thank God the handle moved and the door swung open as soon as he touched it to reveal a servants staircase.... it was empty and the wooden steps provided barely enough space for a modern sized foot but it was brightly lit by natural daylight and Mycroft chose to go down although he had no idea where they would emerge..... they passed door after door....

Halfway down the flight of stairs Sherlock refused to move. He sat obstinately down on one of the small dusty step and didn't look up as he spoke. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
"I attempted too.... In Finland. We spoke so rarely..... Alan refused to listen," Mycroft said bleakly.  
"We should never have come back." Sherlock said brokenly.  
Mycroft stood devastated.  
"You can't let this happen...." Sherlock said...."Mycroft? _Do _something!"__  
"I may not be able to prevent it...." Mycroft admitted the truth. He had never seen open disappointment on Sherlock's face before.  
"What use are you if you can't stop everything I love being destroyed again?" Sherlock said thickly, in one uncoordinated move he got to his feet and went back up the stairs without another word as Mycroft called after him to wait.

____

 

In the quiet privacy of the holding cell Alan took a deep breath.... "Sherlock's spending the morning with Greg tomorrow before court. Greg promised he's enough work to keep even Sherlock happy and he'll make sure he stays laying down ..... If you're not busy, I could use a hand?"  
"Why? What will you be doing?" John asked. The question had caught him off guard.  
"Painting the nursery and putting up flatpack.... I've some things Sherlock chose due to be delivered but he doesn't know.... Thought it'd be a nice surprise for him for a change if all the basics were set up before he got home. He can make it look nice then. Put things how he wants them...." Alan said calmly. "I can ask Martha to lend me a hand if you're busy.... but it'll likely be a job with some lifting and she's the hip trouble...."  
"Don't do that," the baby's arrival seemed suddenly very real and imminent. John tried to imagine Sherlock arranging a nursery instead of poring over his case files and microscope.... "I'll help of course... if you're ok with me doing it?" John made sure the offer was genuine.  
"Reckon so...." Riddick said. He tested the peace between them to see would it hold.... "I'd best paint the ceiling seeing as you're a short arse... save me borrowing a stepladder.... "  
John flipped him the middle finger peacefully..... and saw Alan's grin flash in the shadows. 

 

The Legate was descending the discreet stairway on his way to tell Mycroft that court would reconvene in an hour when a openly distressed Sherlock ran towards him.  
Upon seeing him a Sherlock skidded to a halt. "Shit... wrong floor.."  
Sherlock said it inaudibly but the Legate read his lips as they moved. It was a useful skill to have as a Judge and not one he ever revealed he possessed. The room Sherlock was looking for was indeed on the floor below them.... "Sherlock... can I offer my assistance?"  
"I don't know. Can you?..... If anybody told me the truth it'd be a start.... Everybody is lying to me." Sherlock remained standing a few steps below.... Aubyn saw the deep inhale he took before speaking . "The father of my baby.... is it true he'll be charged with rape?"  
"Ah.... " Aubyn said kindly. "If you step inside my chamber we can talk prvately."

 

Aubyn had been so close to the Holmes Omega before. The silver scattered lights in the youth's long lashed eyes were unusually luminous now he was upset.  
Sherlock stood the other side of the desk as he touched a finger to the cold glass domed cover that protected an intricate scale model of the Titanic without speaking.  
"May I ask who told you?" The Legate was curious.  
"Does it matter?" Sherlock challenged the purpose of the question. "He said the father could hang . That's more important."  
The Legate listened to Sherlock's disordered breathing. "He won't hang. You have my word on that."  
"But you will take him away from me?" Sherlock asked brokenly.  
"As the father of your baby is a Common Alpha, even though you are a member of the Elite, the evidence will be heard in one of the Outer Courts...."  
There was a shiver running through Sherlock's body that he couldn't control. " You can't take Alan," he said. "I love him."

"Yours will be my last case. The end of a long and distinguished career." The Legate heard running footsteps race up the hidden stairway and a raised voice and guessed correctly that a search was underway for the youth who stood opposite him. "I built this model of the Titanic as a boy.... the tragedy of its story caught my imagination.... The powerful Elite sailing along believing the ship impregnable .... But an iceberg beneath the sea can rend iron plate from iron plate until the whole weakens. She was fatally holed but few on deck realised that and the band still played on as if all would be well... once sufficient water had breached it, the decks begin to tilt and even the heaviest most ornate furniture was soon afloat like cheap flotsom. However solid the ship appeared when it set sail now it can do nothing but sink , pulled down in the end by its own increasing weight.." The Legate waited to see if the Omega understood him. " At the time of the Titanic's collision with the iceberg there were 141 Elite Omega on board.... 97% of them survived, helped into lifeboats as a priority while their Alpha remained on deck without protest. Below in steerage were 450 Common Omega, because of the aggression shown by their desperate Alpha they were held below decks behind locked gates by the stewards. By the time the gates were opened all the lifeboats had gone, 391 of the poorest Common Omega went into the frozen water and drowned.... "  
Sherlock stared at him. His eyes dark and troubled as he looked at the model boat... " I understand the analogy and believe me I'm in favour of letting several people; including Charles, go down with the ship but I'm not getting in a lifeboat and leaving Alan behind just because I'm born Elite and he wasn't!" he said. "I'll take my chances in the water with him before I agree to do that." 

The Legate was surprised to find his meaning misunderstood..." Sherlock .... has the possibility that you are in fact the iceberg in my analogy and not one of a crowd waiting to be saved by an Alpha not occurred to you?"  
"Oh....!" Sherlock said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick shout out to thank everyone still reading especially if you've left a comment or kudos or you've subscribed. Thanksl for the support!


	87. Opening The Floodgates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock blames Mycroft for the situation as he tries to get Alan to open up and talk to him about the threat of prison that he knows his lover faces.  
> Things don't work out as an oblivious Riddick still avoids the subject..  
> Faced with an emotionally distraught Sherlock who can't concentrate and a devastated, bewildered Alan , Greg tries to help both sides but its suddenly all too much for Sherlock and Neep....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything in CAPS is a text.  
> Bit shook....Yorkshire for upset/vulnerable.  
> Knackered... tired.
> 
> The tracks is 36 Oaths by Gaika.
> 
>  
> 
> I want to say a big thanks to everyone who left me a comment asking how I was doing. I've never had support like that and I won't forget it.  
> I'm feeling a bit shell shocked and sleeping a lot of the time. Getting there. Better than I was.  
> I may be a bit slow replying to comments because of the sleeping.

"Alan? Can I use your phone? Mine died."  
"Course you can." Alan was relaxed about it. Trusting.  
Sherlock only just got hold of Alan's phone in time as Mycroft's text explaining the situation to an oblivious Riddick arrived fast.  
SHERLOCK NOW AWARE YOU FACE CRIMINAL CHARGES. VITAL HE IS HANDLED WITH CARE. NO NEED TO BE EXPLICIT REGARDING POSSIBLE LENGTH OF SENTANCE. IMPERATIVE YOU REMAIN VAGUE.

Yes I am aware.... no thanks to you brother!  
Sherlock watched Mycroft frown at the small screen of his phone when no reply was sent, clearly doubting Alan's ability to manage the fall out. He could tell the exact second before Mycroft reached a decision to personally intervene and began walking towards the car.  
Sherlock texted at speed. FUCK OFF AND STOP TEXTING ALAN BEHIND MY BACK.  
Mycroft read the text with a straightened mouth and stared up at the cars tinted windows as though he could see Sherlock through the tinted glass if he tried hard enough. 

Sherlock turned Alan's phone off before handing it back.... "Sorry your battery died too."  
"Shite , I knew I should have charged it." Alan tucked it away in a pocket. He looked at Mycroft and watched as Sherlock's brother stared down at his mobile phone. "Ruddy Hell what's keeping him now? If it's a ruddy text can't he answer it when he's in the car?"  
"Work.... he only ever has that constipated face when it's the House Of Commons." Sherlock pretended he could deduce what was wrong.  
Alan gave a snort of laughter.  
That was ok.... he wouldn't be laughing for much longer.

When the driver turned around said that Mycroft had given him orders to go ahead and take them back to Baker Street without him, Alan accepted the change of plan without question.  
Sherlock watched Mycroft poke the metal prong of his umbrella against the ground in a telllate gesture of frustrated unease.  
Alan turned in his seat. "You look a bit shook," he said and laid a hand on top of Sherlock's with a warming rub. "Let's get you home."  
Sherlock locked his fingers together with Alan's and held on.

 

"Alan? I have to pee.... I can plug your phone in to charge...."  
"It's in my pocket...." Alan had stuck his head in the fridge to come up with something for dinner..... "There's chicken.... I can make stir fry if you'd eat that.... or omelette?"  
I couldn't care less about food... "Chicken please...."  
Once out of sight of Mycroft's spy cams sat on the side of the bath, Sherlock removed the sim card and hid it inside the toilet brush .  
If Alan needed to buy a new one then that served him right. He was a total idiot for agreeing to lie.

"That smells really good," Sherlock said as he took a seat on the kitchen table. He'd changed into PJs , looking more vulnerable was all part of the plan.....  
"I put a bit less sweet chilli paste in case you get heartburn again." Alan dug into the wok with a fork, unable to judge how much more time the noodles needed.  
Sherlock always liked watching Alan do things.... liked watching him do any kind of thing really, he liked the quiet kind of competance in everything domestic that Alan exuded. He didn't like watching him and knowing he was lying.  
"Shall i just bung it in a couple of bowls and we can eat next door?" Alan asked.  
"Sounds good. " Sherlock smiled his brightest , least trustworthy smile. 

They were squashed on the couch.... a feat that now required quite a lot of careful manoevring given Neeps insistance on kicking violently the second he felt he was being given less space than he merited. Being in a self contained , solely occupied womb did not seem to mean he felt he had enough space of his own already....  
"Ow," Sherlock muttered as Neep dug a pointy body part into something tender.  
"Stop kicking seven bells out of your mum." Alan glanced down with a worried kiss as Neep's little protest made itself felt and Sherlock felt his warm hand land on the exposed strip of skin. "You still tired?"  
"Nope." Sherlock denied it , shook his head and slid a leg over Alan to keep him there despite Neep.  
"There's now't good on the TV. It's not worth the license...." The pages of the tv guide rustled over Sherlock's head before Alan tossed it aside.  
Don't care about the tv. Care far more about proving a point here. Lying to me, especially at my brother's behest, is an exceedingly bad idea as you are about to find out..... "I told you we didn't need a tv, Alan. I don't know why you got one."  
"You might. Lots of late nights with a baby.... " Alan answered thoughtfully.  
Yes and you aren't going to be here for them! How can you think I don't need to know that? How can you possibly be so idiotic as to think a TV can replace you. Sherlock bit his lip so he didn't say any of that aloud...yet..

"You and Billy...." Sherlock knew they'd agreed to talk more about Alan's first bond mate but even so he could feel tension in the relaxed body that lay against his own..... "Did you always want an equal bond not a dominant one?"  
"Aye... I mean I never wanted to be the boss of him. He'd a good head on his shoulders, made better decisions than me most of the time... giving him more say made sense." Alan admitted.  
_I see..... Billy's decision making can be trusted but I'm some delicate flower who needs protecting from reality? _"What do you mean he made better decisions?" Sherlock snuggled back against his lover.... deceptively soft and calm....  
"I was out to prove a lot of things back then. Reckoned once his mum saw I'd bought a ring she'd see I was dead set on him and me being forever .... " Alan sounded troubled. "She'd had a word weeks before I gave it him, told me I'd never be good enough to take care of him. Said if I loved him i'd let him go and not 'drag him down' to my level."  
Sherlock said slowly.... "So you asked him to bond because she said you couldn't?" That didn't sound like the Alan he knew.  
"No.... mebbe part of it was an 'up yours' to her..... I wanted to prove her wrong....ended up proving her right.... I didn't like how she saw me , like some scruffy mutt of a dog sniffing round a posh butchers in hope of a bone.... I loved how he made me feel like I was worth summat, so I gave her my word I wouldn't ask him and then I went and did it."  
Sherlock forced himself not to react while Neep protested with a flurry of jabs..... "So you lied?" There was a pattern emerging here!  
"Aye.... I semi lied. I'd a ring on deposit already when she said it. I worked twice as hard to pay it off and ask him after she showed me what she thought," Alan said ruefully. "She never forgave me for it."  
What the Hell was a semi lie! Sherlock didn't believe this! You lie or you don't lie.... its simple ....its straight foward .... you do or you don't! He pressed a kiss into Alan's chest. It was that or start pummelling him with both fists and calling him an idiot!__

____

__

____

 

Alan stood aside with the toothbrush still in his mouth to let Sherlock spit into the sink first.... "Bump looks a bit bigger...... or lower.... that must have been what Mary saw."  
" I told you. She didn't see anything .... and she outed me on purpose," Sherlock said around the toothbrush in his own mouth.  
Alan ran the water faster and spat into the sink.. "Why would she do that?.... Unless ....jealousy mebbe, she's with John and he'd try be with you in a shot if I wasn't...." he stopped mid- sentance.....  
Sherlock avoided saying anything about John, now Alan and John were getting along better he wasn't going to risk spoiling things by admitting he'd noticed John still had feelings for him. A question occurred to him instead. "Why do you think she's jealous when you aren't?"  
"Who says I'm not? Sometimes I am," Alan was honest. "That's the feeling I got from her. Bit unhinged like. John could do a lot better for himself than her or that Saul if you ask me."  
Sherlock found himself staring at Alan thoughtfully.  
"What?" Alan asked.  
"Lets go to bed," Sherlock said. There was more than one way to make Alan relax enough to talk.

 

Alan picked up his phone but Sherlock wasn't worried. There was no way Alan would'nt notice it wasn't charging. "Did Greg text?" he said innocently.  
Alan reached for the plug socket and flicked the switch down. " You forgot to switch the plug on love. Phones still dead....That explains it ... why your brother's not been in touch." Alan's frowned as he peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it on the bed, Sherlock forgot things all the time now..... " Bet he's left me a load of pissed off texts telling me I'm compromising your safety...."  
"Probably..... Can we just ignore him for once." Sherlock really didn't want to talk about Mycroft right now.  
"Sounds good to me." Alan grinned.

 

The sight of Alan stripping off was distracting..... all that girded , honed muscle and well shaped bone..... Sherlock watched Alan drop his pants right where the soft lamplight lit up the short dark hair that clustered at the base of his thick cock. "You look good...." he heard himself say, feeling hot and breathless as he kicked the duvet off himself with a foot....  
Alan's gaze locked shamelessly on all the pale, perfectly bare skin Sherlock had just revealed and forced him to give a hard gulp to clear his lusting throat before he could speak.... "Thought you said you were tired?"  
Sherlock smiled , watching Alan's blue eyes linger .." I said I wanted to go to bed .... not the same thing at all...." 

 

After.....  
Laying warm and close with his heart racing and Alan pressing kisses into his swollen mouth and licking Sherlock's lips open with his warm tongue..... Sherlock wished he could just forget the stages of the plan that he still hadn't implemented but he couldn't. "You're keeping something back from me...." he said in between hot flustering kisses that stole his breath away.  
Alan huffed a laugh. "Nope. Pretty sure I gave you it all, every last drop" he teased. He could taste himself on Sherlock's tongue.  
Sherlock couldn't help blushing. "Not that...." he said. "Something else.... You've got a secret?" He made it sound like a sudden realisation.  
"Don't be daft." Alan said with a tell tale swallow that told Sherlock he was lying.  
_Stop it! _"Yes you have! You looked left before answering .... Why won't you tell me?"  
Alan sighed and rubbed his nose on Sherlock's cheekbone, he was sated and lazy and talking was the last thing on his mind. "It's nowt."  
A charge of rape is most definately not now't!..... "I don't like you having secrets. Tell me." Sherlock ran his finger tips over Alan's collar bone persuasively .  
"Now't to tell," Alan let his fingers trace along the welted skin of Sherlock's bond bite in a deliberate attempt to caress him to sleep. "Sssh....." He closed his eyes as though he was a lot more sleepy than he was.  
Ssshh? We'll see about that! Stop trying to distract me.... "I can deduce whatever it is anyway.... Why won't you say?" Sherlock pushed closer and felt Alan adjust to the new hold.  
The sigh this time was more pressured..... "Aye I know you can. Just let me surprise you for once....."  
"I like knowing..... Tell me?"  
Alan gave a grunt and closed his eyes..... "You don't have to know everything.... " He planted a kiss on top of Sherlock's forehead and tightened his arms to hold Sherlock there as the Omega tried to pull his head back to protest ..... "It's summat nice I promise. Go to sleep love. You'll be knackered tomorrow."__

____

____

'Summat nice. Summat nice' !!!! How fucking lunatic was that?  
It is not.... nice! It's a criminal charge of statutary rape.  
How long will it take you away for! Do you even know? Has Mycroft even told you ?  
It's an idiot plan and you are an idiot for agreeing to it and Mycroft is an idiot for suggesting it and I am an even bigger idiot for not realising you were lying about more than just the one thing!  
You _can't _go to prision! I don't care what some judge says. I don't care what the law says....Oh shit ..... the law...  
Like a recording Sherlock heard Mycroft's voice again inside his head..... _'Sherlock you must'nt ..... under Bond Law , Charles has exclusivity. _'  
Exclusivity. Only him.  
Fuck.____

__

__

____

____

Sherlock stared unseeing into the darkness of the bedroom trying to imagine being without Alan for the length of a prison sentance, tyring to know the loss before he had to feel it for real.  
It only took a minute for raw grief and loss to clog his throat and drag him choking downwards into emptiness. The void was terrifying.

 

The whimpering woke Alan, the small fearful movements Sherlock was making in the dark were the telltale signs he was lost to a nightmare  
"Sherlock! ...... Sherlock wake up!..... Wake up lad!"  
"Don't...." Sherlock tossed and turned in his sleep. " No.... Charles no..... I don't want to go in there....."  
Alan dropped a wide hand to Sherlock's shoulder and shook him..... and Sherlock flinched back and recoiled half way across the bed.

The disorientation was the worst. Trying to keep hold of Sherlock to setlle him , while he pushed and fought against the touch like a wild thing.  
"It's me ..... it's me!" Alan repeated it over and over.  
"Get Alan. Get Alan" Sherlock babbled.  
"I'm here! I've got you safe.... I've got you.... "  
"Don't... Don't touch me... he'll see.... Charles'll see...."  
"Sherlock. I'm here. He's gone. I'm here lad."  
And just like that Sherlock remembered where he was, who he was with and everything he stood to lose once Neep was born. He clamped both arms round Alan and clung on.  
"Sssh.... sssh..... its alright.... he's not here....I've got you...."  
You aren't leaving me on my own. You aren't. You aren't. You aren't.... I won't let you. "Don't go!" Sherlock gasped the words against Riddick's skin.  
"Never! I've got you.... It's alright love, You're safe with me," Alan promised.

 

Alan took a wary sip of tea when he heard the toilet flush..... he knew what to expect the morning after the lad had a nightmare about what had happened in the study at Apple Dore but that didn't mean he'd feel nothing when Sherlock's delayed reaction came his way...  
"Morning lad.... "  
Sherlock stood over by the far wall, too far away for a kiss or a hug..... "Morning......" the flat answer hung in the air.  
"Cup of tea?"  
"I don't want one."  
" Ok..... You hungry?"  
A head shake. Not even a no thanks. Alan knew this was where things could go pear shaped when they did, but concern for Sherlock and the baby over rode knowing saying it was a bad idea..... "You should eat summat.... even if it's just for Neep...." he said.  
"I don't want too....." Sherlock said with the same reckless challenge in his voice that Riddick knew from Apple Dore. "Stop fussing."  
"I'm not," Alan defended himself against the accusation. "I'm trying to look after you , that's all...."  
Sherlock's smile was tight and furious..... "I said no. Stop telling me what to do."" he said and as he said it he knew it wasn't a fair accusation because caring was what Alan did but even so it gave him the surge of righteous energy he needed for the fight.  
Alan ignored that.... "At least have some cereal..." he said and within a second a teaspoon clattered off the fridge to his left. He turned round fast, a startled look on his face that Sherlock found vaguely comic...."What the Hell? Did you just throw that at me!"  
By way of answer Sherlock picked up a second teaspoon and threw that too......

 

 

"C'mon Alan.... put him down and answer the door." Greg had leant his thumb on the doorbell and left it there several times but nobody had come down to let him in.  
He was turning around to go when Alan opened the front door.  
"I heard you the first time" Alan grumbled as he let him into the downstairs hallway. .  
There was an unhappy gruffness to Riddick's voice that made Greg pause and ask.... "Did Sherlock forget I was coming over?"  
"Nope," Alan said shortly.  
"Everything ok?" Greg checked.  
Alan ignored the question.  
Obviously not then. Greg didn't need to be a genuis at deduction to work that one out.

"Sod it, wheres my FitBit".... Alan had only just started searching through his own pockets when a balled up hoodie with his FitBit in one pocket hit the floor by his feet.... he looked up straightaway..... "What the..... Sherlock , don't you do that! What the fuck is wrong with you this morning? If you don't want me going just say so."  
Greg looked up then got out the way fast as Sherlock hurled a full water bottle recklessly down from the landing upstairs..... Alan jumped smartly back as it hit close to the spot he'd just been standing in.  
Riddick gave a low, pissed off growl as he picked it up...... " Stop it! " A Nike baseball cap hit him square on the forehead with a small but audible thunk .... and he raised his voice and reacted. "Oh aye you think that's clever do you? I always take summat else with me you've forgotten to throw down ......you forgot my sodding earphones and I always take them an' all!" he was mid reply when he discovered his earphones still coiled neatly round the size adjuster inside the baseball cap. He stopped talking and stared at them.  
Sherlock hurled down some sunblock.  
"Sod this.... I'm going for a run...... and screw the sodding sunblock! Are you happy now you've driven me out my own home?" Riddick yelled up the empty stairs indignantly. He slammed the door behind him on the way out and left the water bottle behind him by way of protest.

Greg was on the landing when an agitated Sherlock emerged from 221b. "Alan's just gone," he said. Should he ask? "Everything ok?"  
"I know... I watched him from the window." Sherlock ignored the question , just as Alan had done and banged the door shut. He attempted to squeeze past Greg on the stairs only to find he was too oval a shape to fit. "Stop getting in the way.... It's hard enough being fat and pregnant and useless.... You could at least leave room for me and Neep to get past!" Sherlock snapped.  
Greg wisely stood aside without saying anything and watched Sherlock go downstairs. Wow.....  
"Come on!" Sherlock yelled up from the hallway. "I have things to tell you about our murder victim and all you want to do is stand about on the stairs!"

"Everything okay?" Greg asked again as he started the engine.  
"Fine," Sherlock said moodily. "Can we just concentrate on the case? You're a detective and not an agony aunt after all."  
"Ok....." Greg said. Wow somebody had got out of bed the wrong side.  
"And stop thinking, it's annoying," Sherlock added savagely.

There was no conversation until they turned into the street Greg lived on. There were two huge furniture removal vans parked outside Greg's home and the house next door.  
"Your neighbours are divorcing," Sherlock said.  
"How'd you know that?" Greg knew he'd never mentioned it.  
"Two removal companies.... but its a very small house... you'd only need one van if you moved out and you have a lot of stuff.... The furniture coming out is modern so that suggests your neighbours decorated in a bare , modern style ... no junk.... so if they need two vans it's because the furniture is going to two different new homes." Sherlock said. He sounded depressed.  
"Oi you! It's not a 'very small house'!" Greg said. "It's 3 bed room and it's not junk its retro kitsch you cheeky little so and so!"

Sherlock frowned and pushed the palm of his hand against Neep as the baby dug what felt like a knee into him.  
"Do you really hate being pregnant?" Greg asked as he waited to let the postvan go past.  
"No...." Sherlock said. He didn't sound so sure.  
The postman gave a cheery wave of thanks.  
Sherlock stared morosely out of the car window at the cheerful resin dog that sat next to Greg's front door and the WELCOME sign hanging from its mouth. "You know Mycroft loathes maudlin anything with a passion?"  
Greg glanced at it..... "Secretly kitsch may be his thing."  
Sherlock gave him a look that clearly asked questions of his sanity...... "Just because he hasn't arranged its kidnap and violent destruction ... yet.... doesn't mean he likes it...."  
Greg turned off the engine..... "It's my home," he said. "That stag painting he has hanging in the library upstairs is about as sentimental as a painting gets by the way....."  
"But that's a Landseer.... its art." Sherlock said. Secretly he agreed.  
"So is the dog.... garden art!" Greg said and got out the car. 

Sherlock stared at the offending WELCOME dog closely as Greg unlocked his front door.... the standard of accuracy in its painting was appallingly slapdash, one of its eyes was completely wrongly painted giving it the unintentional look of a squint.  
Mycroft wouldn't have failed to notice that. If he hadn't said anything he must be dying too. Sherlock had no such qualms....."One of the eyes isn't even painted over the eyeball...."  
Greg refused to rise to the bait. "I know. " he said.... he knew Mycroft had noticed exactly the same thing on his way out every morning although he'd controlled the urge to point the flaw out. "I think it gives him character."  
Sherlock rolled his eyes in opposite directions to illustrate his point. "It makes it look like it has a squint."

Greg watched Sherlock's long nervous fingers flick impatiently through the evidence file.  
There was something 'off' about Sherlock today.  
Normally the Elite Omega would be buzzing. Excited to talk about ideas as they came into his head.  
Today he was flat and methodical. There was no joy in it. 

"So lets rehash... the Greenwich body.... " Greg laid out the morgue photos and took a sip of tea.... "No personal infomation on him.... no identifying marks.... We don't even know how he ended up in the Thames or who put him there .... we know nothing about him ...."  
"Wrong.... " Sherlock intoned glumly and pushed one of the line of photos on the coffee table towards Greg.  
"What? How's that wrong?" Greg stared at the photo then looked up, his brow crinkling. "What are you seeing that I'm not?"  
Sherlock laid one pale finger on the photo .... the river swollen corpse looked grey, the skin was wrinkled, water sodden and clearly damaged.... "The outer layer of the skin scraped against something here..... Molly found paint in the abrasion on his heel.... "  
"I know," Greg said. "I've had my Team all along that section of the river bank looking for a match on any of the boats or fencing but we came up empty handed"  
"The paint isn't important... she also found traces of raw pork.... brick dust ..... rubber tyres ..... curry spices.....and carpet fibres..... in fact she found 45 different contaminants and they _are _important. Forget the Thames. The clues we already found prove the body was moved in a hire van..... all sorts of different people use them..... It's the only logical way all those different things could have got onto the body."  
Greg thought about it. There could be camera footage of someone carrying the body to the water if they could trace a licence plate and the van hire company would keep records of anyone who used a van. It was a breakthrough moment.... "I'll get Sally onto it, unless you want to do the grunt work?" he said.  
Sherlock gave an awkward inward shoulder shrug. Now the moment had come to say it he was nervous.  
"You've already found the hire company haven't you?" It would have been a lot of work for one person but Sherlock was stubborn enough to have tackled it.. Greg had a feeling that he'd have done it.  
"Not exactly," Sherlock said flatly.... " I've been ringing round any companies that hire vans that could be a partial licence plate match.....One told me to 'Eff off home to my Alpha!' as soon as he heard my voice.... he must have recognised my name from the TV . Another one said they'd only talk to my Alpha. Bigoted, no way they'd agree to talk to me ......"  
"Ok," Greg said. Was the prejudice of a few Alpha jerks behind the argument Sherlock had been having with Alan? "Once I get a search warrant. I'll take you out there and we'll see how long they refuse to talk to us then." He looked back at the photo.... "You did good putting the forensics to use like that," he said. A thought occurred to him.... "What do you mean 'could be a match' ? We don't have even a partial vehicle registration to go on....."  
Sherlock was shamefaced.... " I hacked into the computers of the more likely companies and run a small search... I don't have the whole licence plate but enough of it too narrow it down to a few possible vehicles."  
"You did what?..... Without a warrant! Without running it past me? What the heck were you thinking?" Greg fumed. "These things need to be water tight legally! You can't just hack into a business ...."  
"Mycroft could get me off even if I got caught red handed.... " Sherlock laid his mobile phone down on the table so Greg could see the photo onscreen . "I think that's them moving the body.... You can see some of the plates better in this image...."  
Greg stared down at a blurred photo of a black van and two individuals in dark anonymous clothing moving a wrapped, body shaped something from the back of it. Instantly he was thinking ahead knowing that blurred image could be improved and sharpened..... He pulled himself back. Sherlock had still breached rules and he reacted as he would had anyone he worked with on his team done the same. ..... "If you plan on working with me; we do things the right way and that means you don't go rogue .... Trust me, when a case that took you months to build gets thrown out and someone you know is guilty walks free on a technicality you'll wish you did things by the book! I've stuck my neck out bringing you in on this. Don't give some Alpha reason to dismiss evidence you worked hard to get..." Greg watched Sherlock look away and suddenly realised the other Omega was nervous....  
There was a still moment as Sherlock realised he'd given his anxiety away, then he dropped his head down and stared blankly at the photos still on the coffee table.  
"Sorry I shouldn't have spoken to you like that." Greg said. He was used to working among Alpha who expected him to react as they did; he felt guilty just looking at Sherlock's bent head. "The detective work you did... that was exceptional. That search must have taken you hours...." he said.  
"It's fine. " Sherlock's chin came back up obstinately and he tapped at the screen of his phone then turned it around to let Greg see the moving footage of two figures carrying the body in the photo again ."You're still blind to something I can see....That looks like a woman not a man doesn't it? Look at the foot size and the way they move.."  
"Bloody Hell.... it does!" Greg swore. "You genuis!"__

____

____

Greg had pored over the morgue photos for the best part of half an hour while Sherlock ate biscuit after biscuit and waited for Greg to spot what else Sherlock said was the second new lead..... finally he admitted defeat. "What is it?" he asked.  
"There..... you see that faint mark on the skin? I asked Molly to let me see the actual body. I wasn't sure based on the photos but when I saw his leg I knew right away.... "  
Greg hadn't realised Molly and Sherlock were talking or that he'd been back to Barts.  
"Texts mostly," Sherlock said answering as though Greg had spoken out loud. He sounded disappointed in himself. "I'm much better with texts. It's easier than talking." He paused as though he only just realised how that sounded.... "She's nice... but people just make me nervous sometimes, even when they are nice..... and she is, she's really nice.... "  
Greg felt a twist of sympathy. It was easy to forget how little socialising Sherlock had been allowed to do in his bond. "What did you find?" he asked.  
" She said it was ok if I came in and we took a skin cross section..... Traces of ink under the skin..... He had a tatoo removed by laser, probably needed one more session to make it fade entirely...." There was none of the usual joy in Sherlock's face, " I think the design was originally a stella d'Italia."  
"A what?" Greg said. Whatever was going on between Sherlock and Alan he'd never seen Sherlock like this before. This wasn't any good, Sherlock looked miserable.  
Sherlock's face fell even further, his great reveal ruined..... "It's an Italian symbol. A red five point star."  
"Is it? " Now that was a breakthrough! "I can contact interpol and start searching the data base for missing Omega that may have ties to Italy. Good work!" Greg frowned when he saw the sadness still on Sherlock's face despite the words of praise.... Whatever was wrong it was making Sherlock miserable...."Lets have a cuppa shall we?" he suggested kindly.

 

John arrived at 221b to find the hallway full of large boxes and Alan mid way up the stairs with one. "All this can't have been cheap?" he said as he took the other end of the heavy box and lifted.  
Alan looked uptight but John supposed it was early days in the bridge building between them.  
"Almost £2300," Alan said.  
John was shocked. "Do you have that kind of money?" he asked before realising maybe he shouldn't have said anything.  
"Not anymore," Alan said matter of factly. "It's been a while since I earnt a wage. Everything Sherlock had on the list is here.... If I have to go I don't want to leave him needing anything for the baby for at least a year."  
John waited till Alan's hands were full of boxes just in case he reacted badly to the suggestion.... " We'd all help. Whatever he needs.... and If you need any money to tide you over ....."  
"Thanks but I'm not hawking my spare kidney for cash yet," Riddick said. That he wanted to change the subject was obvious.  
"The offers there if you change your mind. For a loan not your kidney, I work in ER not transplant." John replied and picking up a stack of boxes himself, he followed Alan upstairs.

John lifted the lid on the tin of wall paint. "You didn't go for blue?"  
Alan looked over. "Nope Sherlock said he wanted gend...." he frowned having forgotten what Sherlock had called it.  
"Gender neutral?" John suggested upon seeing the soft white.  
"Aye that's it." Alan answered.  
"A lot of couples go with that.... case they have a second baby of a different secondary gender...." John said as he stirred the paint and poured some into a tray.  
"A second what?" Alan sounded alarmed. " Give us a chance. He has'nt even had this one!"  
"But you'd have more ?" John made the question sound normal but underneath it he was wondering about what Sherlock had said about Alan having a low sperm count. Not the sort of question John fancied asking Alan aloud.... "If Sherlock wanted another baby?"  
"Last thing he needs is to go through this again any time soon. " Alan said gruffly, the last painful medical examination Sherlock had been through still on his mind. 

 

Sherlock pushed the digestive biscuits aside to get at the last custard cream...."Sometimes.... it's inconvienient.... and uncomfortable," he said out of the blue.  
Greg took a minute to realise Sherlock was finally answering the question he'd asked him and talking about how he felt about being pregnant.  
"I do like being pregnant. This time. Its been nice," Sherlock said as he broke open a biscuit and placed the half without cream back on the plate. "I never liked it before."  
"Well I guess you can always do it again sometime, if Alan's up for that." Greg only said it because there was a wistful look on Sherlock's face.  
"I don't think he is," Sherlock said and pushed his chair back abruptly. "Can I use your toilet?" he said and didn't even wait for Greg to tell him where it was before he was gone.

After ten minutes of watching Sherlock's tea go cold, Greg went knocking on the closed toilet door..... "Everything alright in there?"  
"I'm not in there." Sherlock's voice came from Greg's own bed room.  
Greg pushed open the door to see Sherlock sat on the side of his bed, on top of the new bed linen he'd bought since Mycroft started staying the night a few times a week. " Is this all about the argument you had with Alan?"  
"I didn't have an argument with Alan," Sherlock sounded lost.  
"You could have fooled me," Greg was realistic.  
Sherlock heaved a sigh..."I didn't! He won't argue back. He's like a sponge he just soaks it all up ...."  
Greg came and sat down next to Sherlock....Maybe this was a hormonal thing? "Come on... tell your Unky Greggles all about it," he said absurdly and despite everything he won a derisory smile from Sherlock.  
"He wiped his mouth five times in the space of one cup of tea. He's lying to me." Sherlock said emphatically.  
"About what?" Greg asked gently.  
Take your pick, Sherlock thought hysterically. Rape charges pending. A prison sentence likely. Single parenthood looming. I can't do this without him! It'll be a disaster!..... He shrugged.  
Greg watched the stressed, muddled emotion on Sherlock's face..... "Have you talked to him about whatever it is? Told him you know something is wrong?"  
"You don't understand." Sherlock said despairingly. I talked about lying all night. "He had lots of chances to tell the truth! He didn't take any of them."  
"What kind of chances?" Greg had a feeling he knew..... based on what he'd seen of Sherlock's past views of how sex and life worked. "Maybe the timing was off last night?"  
"People are meant to be more receptive to talk after sex aren't they?" Sherlock looked overwhelmed with misery again. "All he did was go to sleep!"

Greg ignored the lunacy of that last statement.... "Actually talking is still the best way to talk," he said. "Alan's not a mind reader.... if you want him to talk, you need to talk to him, not throw things at him."  
"I made sure everything missed him," Sherlock said. "Except for the baseball cap and headphones. I aimed those...."  
"They hit him. I'm guessing here.... you threw things at him at Apple Dore?"  
Sherlock's guilty face answered for him. He wouldn't have thrown anything if Alan wasn't so stubborn.... "Sometimes.... but he deflects all the time!"  
Greg wasn't sure if Sherlock meant Alan deflected the objects thrown at him or the questions. Both probably. "He isn't as good at reading body signs as you and Mycroft are.... He's a big bloke Sherlock, but he still has feelings like anyone else.... you can't throw things at him and not expect him to get angry or upset."  
"I tried and tried talking .... it's not my fault he's acting like an idiot who thinks because he's decided something then thats what's happening without even consulting me .... even when it's stupid and he's got it all wrong and it'll be a disaster!" Sherlock was so frustrated.  
"Sex is just that, Sherlock. It's sex ...... talking is a whole other thing." Greg said wisely. "A couple can be great in the bedroom but never get communication on the big issues right. Alan'll let you in if he knows it's what you need , that's the difference. Why don't you give him a call and see if he's ready to talk?"  
Sherlock hung his head .... "I may have taken the sim card out his phone and hidden it inside the toilet brush," he admitted. 

 

John was literally watching paint dry, while Alan was fetching the tool kit so they could start on the cot, when his phone rang. "Hey Greg.... How's everything going? Sherlock ok?"  
Bearing in mind that John was helping Alan out , Greg was taken aback by how relaxed he sounded. "He's fine John, Thanks to him we've two new leads. Hows the work going?"  
"Yeah it's looking good. We got the painting done and the curtain pole up. We're on the cotbed and crib now..."  
"That's good.....I've been trying to call Alan but his phone isn't ringing," Greg knew why.  
Alan appeared at the door with a toolbox and a lightshade shaped like a star. "It's Greg," John said. "Hang on , I'll pass you over..."  
"Bung it on speaker phone.... Hey Greg, Sherlock ok?" There was worry in his tone from the start.  
John busied himself downstairs getting the shelves they'd need out of the box they'd been delivered in .  
"Physically he's fine....." Greg took a deep breath. "This argument you had.... "  
"I never argued with him." Alan sounded oddly ashamed that his Omega wasn't happy. "He was sodding impossible all morning.... threw a spoon at my head when I asked him did he want cereal or toast. Snapped my head off all everytime I said owt. I dunno.... it's baby hormones or summat... he'd a bad night."  
Shit, Greg hadn't heard any of that from Sherlock...."It's not his hormones. It's a deduction....He says you've been keeping stuff from him... ?"  
"Did he say what he thinks it is? " Alan said and that wary note was in his voice again.  
Greg heard it. "I don't know and if he does he's not talking about it," he said in his police voice. "But from the sound of it you've a guilty conscience about something ?"  
" I'll be right over," Alan said.  
"He says he wants to spend the night here ," Greg said. He knew what a big deal that was.  
Alan's intake of breath was sharp..... "Give him the phone Greg. Let me talk to him....."  
"Why don't you let him alone to think for a while Alan, if he says that's what he wants."

"It's Alan," Sherlock was all eyes the second he heard the gate open. He just knew.  
From the bedroom window Greg watched Alan head down the path . "You're pseudo bonded Sherlock..... he can't stay away from you for long and stay balanced...."  
"I know," Sherlock said. "It's Alan who forgot that."  
The doorbell chimed.....  
"Don't answer it," Sherlock said. He looked incredidibly tense, hunched on the bed with a pillow curled round his belly. His back was aching.  
Alan rang again and again then knocked a few times for good measure.... he walked midway down the garden path , stooped and flicked a piece of gravel off Greg's bedroom window..... the tiny stone hit the centre of the pane with unerring accuracy..... "Sherlock! .....Sherlock!"  
Sherlock didn't move.  
"The neighbours have kids.... I'll go down and tell him you just need a bit of thinking time...." Greg couldn't have all this yelling in the middle of the day.  
Sherlock caught at Greg's wrist with surprisingly hard fingers. "If you open the door he'll kick it in off the chain and punch you," he said. "He's done it before."  
" What? When?" Greg was shocked. He'd have bet money that Alan wouldn't hit an Omega.  
"He knocked Lars out cold with one punch," Sherlock said as Alan started banging on the glass panel in the front door again.

Alan stood a good six paces back. Clenched fists down by his thighs as though afraid he'd use them. "I need to speak to Sherlock....."  
Greg said. "Did you cheat on him?" It seemed possible given what Sherlock had said about Alan forgetting the importance of the bond between them.  
"What? " Alan was genuinely shocked. "No!.... Where the fuck did you get that idea?" he took three steps forward and stopped only when Greg raised a hand and pushed a palm against his chest..... "Is that what he thinks?" He tilted his head back and yelled up at the house.."Sherlock, I did now't wi' anybody else! I fucking swear it....!"  
Greg had'nt a clue what was going on, Alan was telling the truth about this, he knew that. Had he understood what Sherlock meant? "Go home Alan.... I'll try and talk to him," he said.  
"I'm not leaving without him!" Alan refused point blank. "I can talk to him myself if you just let me fucking in...... He stole my SIM card... did he tell you that?"  
"It's in the toilet brush.... " Greg said. When he said it he was aware it sounded crazy.  
"The fuck is he playing at?" Alan said bleakly. "There's nobody else for me.... doesn't he know that. I don't even look at anyone."

As Greg came back upstairs he heard Alan shout and was surprised to see Sherlock had opened the bedroom window and thrown the book from next to Greg's bed out into the garden at Alan.  
"Oi! My brother bought me that! I haven't even read it yet!" As Greg shut the window he saw a flustered looking Alan had picked up the book and was being spoken to by one of the neighbours, an elderly man who lived next door....  
Great! That'd be the talk of the street all week. The curtains twitched every time Mycroft called as it was now they'd think Alan was his lover too.  
"He got you the wrong book," Sherlock just knew. "Similiar title, you didn't want to tell him.... you were going to give it to charity."  
Greg didn't ask how Sherlock deduced that. 

Greg called while waiting for the kettle to boil.  
"Gregory.... always a pleasure," Mycroft's well modulated tone said.  
"Alan's in my front garden. They had a argument. Sherlock just threw a book at him.... he says he doesn't want to go home."  
"I may bear some degree of responsiblity for that...." Mycroft admitted.  
"What happened?"  
"Under Bond Law Alan faces criminal charges of rape once the baby is born and it can be proved he is a DNA match.... Milne was very clear; Charles will demand a DNA test to determine paternity and Alan will be arrested. "  
"Shit!" Greg kept his voice down. "That's what Sherlock knows?"  
"Sherlock was unaware..... until yesterday. " Mycroft's voice said. "I can endeavor to explain as soon as I this meeting is over."  
"Oh damn... " Greg cursed. "You really think there's going to be an explanation he'll accept for this?"  
"I care," Mycroft said. "It was all to protect Sherlock and the unborn child."  
"I know you do, but Alan's his lover and the father of his baby," Greg replied.

Greg had made some bacon sandwiches and taken a plate up but Sherlock claimed not to be hungry and lay on one side staring blankly at the oddly swirled ceiling .  
"Mycroft told me what's going on....." Greg said.  
"That's good of him considering he didn't tell me and he's my brother," Sherlock said bitterly.  
"Want to talk about it?" Greg offered.  
"No," Sherlock said.  
"So..... is it over between you and Alan?"  
Sherlock shook his head as the doorbell chimed again.  
"You're going to have to talk to him sometime if it's not over." Greg pointed out reasonably.  
"Not yet." Sherlock said. "He hasn't got the message yet. He still thinks he can do this and it won't destroy both of us."

 

"Open the fucking door Greg!" Alan leant both hands either side of the door frame to prevent himself from taking a punch. He could barely get the words out through his clenched jaw.  
"You need to calm down," Greg said. "You aren't helping yourself here."  
Alan lost what last shred of patience he had .... "Fuck that! You've got Sherlock and my baby in there and from the sound of it he thinks I've bloody cheated! I want in!"  
"Step away from the door... " Greg made certain the short police issue baton he held was visible.  
Alan took half a step back and shifted restlessly from foot to foot..... looking right past Greg into the house..... like Greg was merely an obstacle.....  
"Snap out of it!" Greg used his work voice. "You try it and I'll drop you before you get a foot over the threshold...."  
"I'd like to see you try!" Alan ground the words out but he took another step back down the path. "You think I can't boot the fucking door in if I wanted?"  
"I'm sure you can. Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't arrest you for criminal damage just because we're mates. This is my home and Sherlock says he needs time on his own."  
"Mates!" The denial was harsh. "We're not fucking mates if you don't let me in .... the last thing he needs is time on his own if this is the fucked up kind of accusations he's coming up with"  
"I'm Sherlock's friend too....." Greg stood his ground. "He said he wants to be here and right now he doesn't want to speak to anyone.... even you. "  
Alan lashed out a kick and shattered one of Greg's plastic flowerpots by kicking it off the wall to the right of the open door..... compost and plant roots shot up to hit the open door and came showering down. "Too Hell wi' that!"  
"And that kind of agro Alpha shit, is exactly why I'm not letting you inside," Greg said. "Go away, take a walk round the block . Calm yourself down.... Sherlock's pregnant or have you forgotten that? "  
"Of course I ruddy haven't!"  
"Then stop letting your knot think for you!" Greg said shortly. "He's ok here till he's ready to talk.... You could have told him the truth. He's much stronger than he used to be."  
"Do you think I don't know that!" Alan said despairingly.

 

"He's still outside.... is'nt he?" Sherlock knew without having to look. The late morning sky was overcast and the dark grey clouds held rain.  
Greg saw no point in lying about it. "He hasn't moved."  
Sherlock said nothing as the first heavy drops of rain began to hit against the window pane.  
"I'll lend him a coat," Greg said.  
"He doesn't have one on?" Sherlock frowned.  
"No.... just a t-shirt." Greg replied. "He won't leave Sherlock, not now he knows you're here."  
Sherlock turned over to face away from the window so he couldn't see the rain falling. He couldn't afford to start feeling sorry for Alan now.  
He shut his eyes so Greg would think he was sleeping.

 

Alan was half sheltered up against the front door underneath its tiny porch roof.  
The rain had already soaked huge spreading splotches across one of his shoulders and one leg of his jeans clung wet and dark to his thighs where the rain had blown against him.  
Nevertheless he looked up in hope when Greg opened the door and stepped out into the rain to give Greg some distance. "Did you ask him?"  
"Yes, he won't talk. Here...." Greg held out the jacket.  
Alan shook his head without taking the jacket. "I'd not get it on.... my shoulders are bigger," he said.  
Greg put a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich down on the porch step. "Bacon's cold. I took Sherlock a sandwich first."  
"He eat it?" Alan asked. "He's due at Court this afternoon."  
"He took a bite."  
"That's no good.... " Alan said glumly.  
"What lies have you told him?" Greg kept his voice low.  
Alan shook his head. "Two big uns. A handful of small one's to make the bigger two stick...."  
"Then that's your problem...." Greg said. "He knows."  
" I can't bloody fix it from out here, can I?" Alan said frustratedly. "What's he doing in there?"  
"Staring at the wall like he's forgotten I'm there," Greg was truthful.  
"Fuck it," Alan said as the rain ran down his face. "If he's in there he can't even hear you."  
"What do you mean?" Greg said.  
"He has the house he grew up inside his head.... " Riddick said. "Exactly as it was growing up.... including that bastard Siger."  
It didn't need a genuis Holmes to know that couldn't be a good thing.

_Inside his memory house Sherlock sat halfway down the stairs and listened to Siger yelling at Mycroft about his school report.  
"D! Failure to participate willingly in any sports based activity! No sense of team spirit! A bloody D! You idle slacker! What do you have to say to that?"  
"M...M...M.... My other grades were all A's ......"  
"Listen to yourself.... that pathetic stuttering, get your tongue around the word ..... either speak up like a man or have done with it!.... You won't try that's your problem!...... Catch!" There was an exclamation followed by a bouncing sound.... and a red cricket ball rolled out from the open study door and accross the floor. "Oh for pities sake! Even William can catch a damn ball when it's thrown.... get up.... Stop cringing, it's a spot of blood that's all..... I said stand up... it was nothing.... Mycroft!"  
The door flew open and Siger pushed Mycoft out ahead of him into the hall. Sherlock stayed poised , ready to run back upstairs.....  
"Get the bloody ball....." with a hard shove Mycroft went sprawling down onto the tiled hallway..... Siger's head turned unerringly and stopped on his youngest son.... "Stand up William. On your feet! Now!"  
There was blood on Mycroft's clever, freckled face..... at the corner of his eyebrow..... Sherlock stared at it .  
"About bloody time...." Siger snatched at the ball. "Any fool can throw a ball and any fool can catch one!.....Catch it William!"  
The red ball was coming straight for Sherlock! He shot a hand out and caught it and all his fingers and palm stung as it struck them. He was in shock at how hard the ball was.  
"Don't just stand there like a fool... throw it to Mycroft!"  
Sherlock hesitated.... Mycroft was hunched over one hand to his face....  
"Throw it !" Siger barked the order and Sherlock didn't even stop to think..... throwing the ball towards Mycroft in one fluid overarm move.  
Mycroft desperately shot both hands out and the ball struck him on the thumb bone then shot away across the floor and hit the skirting board with a thud as Mycroft made a choked sound of pain.  
"Next time catch it!" Siger shoved Mycroft away from him to retrieve it then grabbed hold of him by one shoulder and span him around..... "Again! Throw the damn ball!" he roared in his face.  
Sherlock knew Mycroft could never throw straight so he allowed for that..... Mycroft's throw went wide but Sherlock managed to scramble the catch without falling down stairs.  
"Hurry up!" Siger snapped. This time when Sherlock threw the ball back Siger pushed Mycroft aside and caught it himself.  
"Good God! An Omega throws straighter than you!" Siger sneered at Mycroft, then suddenly he threw again.... the ball hit the wall just to the left of Sherlock's head with a crack of plaster.... Sherlock looked, there were bits of shattered , painted plaster all over the step. It could have been pieces of his head or his brain..... he blinked.  
"You could have killed him! He's only seven!" Mycroft was shouting, white faced and shrill.  
There was a crack as Siger's slap struck the side of Mycroft's head and sent his glasses flying then Siger was storming up the stairs towards Sherlock and Sherlock had no time to do anything other than cower before Siger grabbed him by the shirt back and swung him up. The fabric pulled and pinched at Sherlock's tender skin beneath his arms as he flailed and behind him Mycroft came running up the stairs, red faced and breathless.  
Siger's deer hounds scattered as their master came slamming into his private sitting room towards them..... Sherlock was dropped hard into the musty old dog bed and hit his knee on a half chewed bone.... the pain flared like fire and he grabbed his knee and rolled over in agony hugging it..  
Siger poured himself a drink and drank it in one hard swallow as Mycroft hammered at the shut door. "Stay there you pretty little bitch," he said to Sherlock..... "Let your brother worry about I'm doing to you from out there." ___

____

____

Greg heard the gasp Sherlock gave just before his eyes opened.  
"Alan?" Within seconds Sherlock was struggling to sit up.... his back was killing him and he really needed to pee, there was pressue in his groin like he'd drunk a lot hours ago.  
"Hey.... take it easy.... " Greg didn't like the blurred, confused look on Sherlock's face. "You're at my place remember? Alan's just outside."  
Sherlock froze as soon as his feet hit the carpet ..... there was a weird internal sensation of shifting pressure and a rush of warm wet fluid leaked out of him ..... alarmed he hunched forward and grabbed at his sides another gush of fluid came flooding.... on the white duvet beneath him a watery , pink tinged stain was spreading..... He stared at it helplessly then looked up at Greg with a 'help' expression on his face.  
"Oh you bast......!" Greg said. Almost cursing from shock before he controlled it. "Your waters just broke."


	88. Neep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of swearing.....  
> Neep aka Billy makes his entrance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slash....a pee.  
> Sillin...heavy rain.  
> Bricking it...terrified.
> 
> A radiant crib is an open sided special care crib with heat ...it allows medics to get access to the baby from all sides.  
> Apgar ....is a rating of how well a baby is at birth based on breathing, colour , movement etc. Zero being the lowest score and 10 the best score. Its taken at intervals in the first moments.
> 
> Next update....Mycroft's perspective ....and Sherlock finally gets to touch his son and bond..
> 
> Blue the track is Light Light by Sleeping At Last.

Sherlock hurried into the bathroom and pulled at his clothes.... there was a thick blood streaked jelly when he wiped himself that he remembered seeing before when he'd been in labour.  
"You don't feel like pushing or anything like that do you?" Greg asked through the door.  
"Don't be ridiculous!" The fluid had started leaking again..... God he'd somehow forgotten how messy this all was.  
"Everything alright in there?" Greg hadn't a clue what was happening.  
"Get Alan please," Sherlock said.  
Greg raced down the stairs and flung wide the door.... The garden was empty. The resin WELCOME sign dog smiled up at him with a surprisngly smug expression.... "Oh crap!" Greg said and banged the door shut again. 

"Sherlock... there's no need to panic, try and stay calm..... Alan must have gone for a walk round the corner or something.... he isn't in the garden right now." Greg used his official 'trust me' voice that he kept for emergencies.  
It didn't work.  
"He's gone _where _...?" Sherlock panicked from his seat on the toilet as a crampy contraction started. "Call him and tell him he ...... Oh my God I put his SIM in a toilet brush..... you can't even call him! You have to to find him _now _.... I'm not having this baby without him! Do you hear me!"  
So much for staying calm..____

It took six calls before Mycroft finally answered the phone. His weekly meeting with HRH meant a strict period of non contactabilty. "I'm on my way ..... I should be with you within twenty minutes , Gregory...."  
" About that..... change of plan," Greg said and he could hear the worry in his own voice, damn it! "The baby waters just broke...."  
Mycroft had a lurid momentary vision of a Noah like flood of Biblical damnation washing all before it away. It seemed oddly appropriate.  
"Hello?" Greg repeated. "Mycroft? Did you hear me? Hang on a mo....." He stopped talking as Sherlock emerged from the toilet looking ashen faced. He didn't need to ask if Sherlock was in labour, the slightly squeamish, look of dread on the Elite Omega's face made it obvious. "He's here now Mycroft.... you can speak to him...."  
Sherlock had taken a couple of steps down the landing towards Greg....he stopped and span back around vanishing back into the toilet within seconds.  
" Or maybe not!" A stressed Greg said.

"Get over here fast," Greg as quietly as he could. "Alan's gone walkabouts, his phones not working, Sherlock's doing _something _and I don't have a clue what to do. Do I call for an ambulance?"__  
"No!" Mycroft said sharply. "On no account involve emergency services! The situation must remain confined...." He had a sudden Alpha urge to help reassure Gregory....." You're Omega, Gregory.... I'm sure..." He was about to say he was sure that Gregory could cope and reassure Sherlock until help arrived.....  
"If you're going to tell me to boil a kettle and get some towels .....don't..." Greg muttered through gritted teeth.... "I'm a murder squad detective not a midwife, Mycroft!"  
Having not anticipated this stressed reaction, Mycroft said placatingly. " Every possible birth scenario is covered.... there's a fully equiped birthing suite installed here.... pain relief.... everything needed for a premature birth....."  
"That's great..... but none of it's here where Sherlock actually needs it! He's having contractions on my bath mat and the only equipment in there is a toilet brush!" Greg pointed out.  
Mycroft's mouth opened slowly as the grimly physical reality that his brother was about to give birth or die trying dawned on him. "Help is on the way," he said.

"Is Dr Virtanen en route from the safe house?" Mycroft was crisply exact. Hiding any fear behind crystal clear enunciation.  
"He is Sir, estimated arrival 10 minutes.... Dr Watson has been successfully intercepted at St Barts..... No sign of Alan Riddick as yet.... we are extending the search area to the park.... and the other way..... towards the bus stop..... we have a surveillance in place on all main routes out of the area...."  
"Find him," Mycroft ordered. "My brother needs him there.... and divert Doctor Watson to Inspector Lestrade's home to assist." He regretfully recognised his own error of judgement.... had he placed surveillance within all the rooms of Gregory's home this unacceptable degree of risk and ignorance could have been replaced by absolute certainty. He would not make that mistake again... 

Sherlock had disappeared into the bathroom again.....  
"Do you think you should leave the door open, " Greg suggested. "In case anything happens....."  
"I'm using the toilet !" Sherlock said shortly. "I need privacy"  
Greg had caught the tail end of a tv show in which an Omega who had stomach ache went to use the toilet and gave birth to the baby , dropping it head first into the bowl.... "You sure that's all it is? You don't feel the head at all?" he checked.  
Idiot! Sherlock stared at the sink as another cramp and more weird leaking grossness happened .... "Go away!" he said desperately.  
Greg couldn't get downstairs fast enough when the doorbell chimed..... "Where the Hell have you been Alan?" he said as he threw the door open, expecting Riddick.  
John gave him an amused smile. Having lived with Greg he knew how stressed he had to be right now.... "Nice to see you too Greg. Where's the mum to be?"  
Greg grabbed hold of John's jacket and hauled him over the threshold. "Get up there and do your doctor thing! " he said. 

Greg went to the end of the path before he came back inside. There was still no sign of Riddick.  
When he went upstairs John was checking Sherlock's blood pressure and pulse.....  
"I can't have the baby now..... Alan's not here."Sherlock was saying when another pain started and he stopped speaking.  
" I don't think you've much choice about 'when' anymore Sherlock. That another contraction? Tell me when it's over...." John laid a palm on Sherlock's lower belly without even asking if he could and Greg realised he'd never usually have done that if Sherlock wasn't in labour.....  
Sherlock stayed very still, his face screwed up in pain then relaxed as the pain stopped ..... " That really hurt low down inside me."  
John removed his hand from Sherlock's belly and tried to hide the worry on his face. " I'll be right back, Sherlock " he said.

"Oh sodding Heck..... he's going to have it on my bed isn't he?" Greg said in a hoarse whisper out on the landing.....  
"No but I need to take the pessary and stitch out... before it tears his cervix ....." John said." Do you have a couple of clean towels I can use? Save your mattress, yeah?"  
"I'm never having kids!" Greg said and got what John needed..

Sherlock stared at the surgical steel equipment John had laid out on a sterile tray on Greg's bedside cabinet ...... he was laying on his side with two of Greg's clean bath towels under his hips. Bare from the waist down , his arse exposed, the third towel was currently the only thing covering his modesty. He was fairly sure Greg was never going to want his towels back after this!  
John wiped skin sterliser briskly over his fingers, palms and hands as far as his wrists..... and pulled on a pair of latex gloves..... "Ok.... right Sherlock I need you to bend that top knee up and forward for me..... "  
Sherlock tensed as the mattress dipped, as soon as John touched him, he flinched. " Sorry!" he said breathlessly.  
"That's okay.... Try not to move..... Deep breath.... Sorry.... Ok..... you're going to feel some ...." John searched for a word that wouldn't freak Sherlock out... "some pressure."  
Sherlock felt a burning pain then a sickening twist and pull..... "Urghhhh..... Oh shitting SODDING...... BLOODY HELL....... I HATE PRESSURE!"  
" You're doing really well...." John soothed.  
"That felt like you were pulling my cervix out!. That was not bloody _pressure _... that hurt!" Sherlock was furious.__  
John ignored that and concentrated. Like all doctors he knew sometimes pain was inevitable..... "If you haven't decided on a baby name yet John's a great pick...." He tried distraction, not caring what he said as long as it did the trick, as he lubed the speculum and warmed it in his gloved hand before use.....  
"John..... you're about to stick a metal thing up my arse .......the circumstances aren't exactly endearing you to me...." Sherlock said frantically. He couldn't stop shaking.  
John couldn't afford to hesitate , despite hearing the fear in Sherlock's voice. "Worth a try.... Ok..... deep breath in and sigh it out slow as you can.... Keep going...." Under his reassuring hand Sherlock was hissing with fear. "If John's out Hamish is a good old Scottish name....." John said as he sprayed the cervix with cleanser. "Bit of...." John was about to say pressure when Sherlock glared at him over one shoulder with huge accusatory eyes.... " Bit of.... um.... a sharp stretch and burn now...."  
"Hamish is an awful..... ow..... oh fuck..... ow ow owowowowow.... FUCK...... YOU WANKER JOHN!"  
"Sorry!" John said truthfully, as he removed the speculum and wiped away the blood from Sherlock's skin his hands shook despite himself... "All over." 

"Lean on me....careful....Tell me if you feel faint or shaky..." John said as they moved down the landing towards the stairs.  
"What happens if I'm feeling both?" Sherlock gasped and stopped as another pain came.  


Greg watched the careful way Sherlock was moving and went ahead to open the front door.  
Alan Riddick was stood on the porch step next to the resin dog, his hair and clothes still soaked wet from the rain. He looked round fast as soon as he heard the door and was on his feet in seconds to take a step back and give Greg some space.  
"Where the Hell have you been?" Greg was relieved to see him.  
" _Me _?" Alan said. That accusation made no ruddy sense , given he'd been trying to get inside the house for hours! He looked a bit shamefaced as he answered..... "I hopped the gate and went for a slash in your back garden behind the shed.... That old bloke next door could talk the hind leg off a donkey once he gets started..." he stopped talking as Sherlock appeared and he realised something was wrong then pushed past Greg.... "Sherlock! What's wrong love?"__  
Sherlock took a minute to say anything, holding tight to the banister with one hand and breathing slowly....  
"Oh shite!" Alan said as awareness dawned. "You're having the baby aren't you!"  
"Why does everyone sound so surprised about that?" Sherlock gasped.

____

In the echoing gloom of M15's underground carpark Mycroft had a wheelchair and a neatly folded blanket waiting for Sherlock by the doors and calming violin music was playing over some kind of sound system in the carpark and the lift.  
"Christ, he's thought of everything even a soundtrack!" Alan said in disbelief.  
John grinned. "That's Mycroft for you. Come on Sherlock, take a seat."  
Sherlock refused to sit in the wheelchair with a fragile obstinacy and insisted on walking.  
Course he did! Alan wasn't even surprised.

In the long empty corridor Sherlock stopped walking and all they could hear was the marked pattern of his stressed breathing.  
When the pain was gone he straightened up and John saw how pale he was.  
"I don't have my hospital bags...." Sherlock said anxiously. "I don't even have a nappy or the car seat for Neep to come home in."  
"It's alright. We'll arrange something," John said. The baby wouldn't be coming home for a while... 

"Hey Sherlock.... Today's the big day is it? You did really well to get this far! Come on in.... Is it raining Alan? You look drenched," Lars was welcoming and reassuringly familiar and just seeing him there helped.  
"Nope , was sillin earlier though," Alan felt weird making small talk but did his best. Anxiety griped at his belly.  
The suite of rooms ahead of them looked exactly like any of the posh private hospitals he'd ever been in. The line of baby monitors, equipment and empty incubator down one side of the room bought back memories Alan wished they didn't.

"Can I use the toilet?" Sherlock said desperately. He didn't want to look at the equipment. It made him feel sick.  
"Of course.... there's a urine container in there if you can catch me a mid flow sample to test... just leave it on the shelf as you come out..... and there's a sanitary pad if you need one ....." Lars said.

The door had a weird sliding lock that could be opened from outside.  
There was an disposable kidney bowl that looked like a tiny bed pan.  
As Sherlock peed in it he stared at the hanging red emergency cord and wondered how many MI5 agents would come running if he pulled it.

John talked quietly to Lars as he helped the other doctor set up what he needed for an initial assessment exam..... "I had to take the stitch out already.... slight bleeding but his cervix is so damaged..... I didn't want to risk it tearing....."  
Lars nodded. He had a folder open on the medical trolley and John recognised Sherlock's hand writing.  
"Is that his birth plan?" John was touched to see it there. He read a few lines of it despite it being upside down for him. Sherlock had underlined the words WATER BIRTH and PAIN RELIEF ANYTHING/EVERYTHING EXCEPT EPIDURAL! heavily. John frowned, "He's sure about the epidural?"  
" Very." Lars watched John. "The baby's premature so birth in the pool is out but I'm going to try and help him follow his plan as much as I can," he said.  
John nodded. "What can I do to help?"  
"Can you check the resuscitation crib is all set up...? " Lars said and he and John exchanged solemn looks. 

Alan smiled at him when Sherlock came back in the room.  
Sherlock stared.... "You've changed your clothes...." How on earth? Was he hallucinating?  
"Aye .... and look what's here," Alan said.  
On the chair next to the bed were both Sherlock's packed hospital bags.  
"Nice of your brother to arrange for that," Alan said.  
It was but Sherlock wasn't ready to acknowledge that yet.  
"I thought he'd be here by now... telling us all he wants us to name the baby Horatio or summat...." Alan added.  
Not if he knows what's good for him, Sherlock thought.

"Three centimetres dilated Sherlock," Lars announced. He laid a kind hand on Sherlock's ankle to acknowledge the fearful shaking that Sherlock couldn't control.  
Sherlock was unimpressed. How was he in this much pain for only three miniscule cms.  
"That's good, isn't it? Only seven more to go!" Alan said optimistically.  
Seven! Oh my God! This was going to take hours!  
"Let's get you up off the bed and walking about so gravity can lend you a helping hand.... and we'll have a chat about your birth plan before the contractions get longer, " Lars said helpfully.  
"I wanted a water birth.... and pain relief...." Lots of pain relief.  
"I know," Lars smiled. "Where are you feeling the contractions most?"  
"In my back, low down" Sherlock said.  
"Would you like to try a TENS machine?" Lars said. "You'll control it as you need it."  
Sherlock nodded. 

Lars was sticking the pads in place either side of Sherlock's spine and talking to him about how it worked.  
Alan stood well back and John watched him tapping his hands against his thighs in helpless agitation .  
"You okay?" John asked in a low voice.  
"Bricking it," Alan admitted. "Can't get the last time out my head."  
Sometimes John forgot that Alan had been there when Sherlock's baby had been stillborn.... "We'll help him as much as we can.... Mycroft's got us the best of everything here...." he found himself saying and wished he could promise more....  
Alan had a grim resignation in his eyes as he nodded. 

"God this feels weird....." Sherlock wasn't sure if he liked it or hated it as the buzzing tingling spread from hip to hip across his back..... the pad between his legs felt a whole lot wetter.  
Alan stood still and let Sherlock lean against him as another pain began.  
"Ohhhh...." Sherlock muttered darkly. "Ohhh...."  
Alan stroked his hair.

Sherlock pushed the strength dial on the TENS machine up..... until his skin felt like it was jumping. "That was a big one.... "he said breathlessly.  
Alan cupped a hand round the nape of the Omega's neck and stroked.  
Sherlock stayed very still , forehead pressed against Alan, panting through his open mouth.... "I need the toilet," he said urgently. God he was scared.  
"Want me to come in with you?" Alan asked. God he was scared.  
"Yes...." Sherlock said. You aren't leaving me!

Sherlock sat on the toilet... face pressed against Alan's taut body..... and felt Alan rub his back.  
"What's the red cord for?" Alan asked for something to say.  
"It's the emergency thing. Don't pull it!" Sherlock said quickly.  
Alan hugged him instead. "Wasn't going too," he lied. 

"Sorry Sherlock.... I can't make you a cuppa till after...." John put one down for Alan. "I can get you some ice chips to suck?"  
"Typical .... I do all the work .... don't even.... get a biscuit...."Sherlock complained as the pain came again.  
Alan put the tea down and moved to rub Sherlock's back.  
"That one was a minute closer together than it was before," John said in a low voice.  
Lars nodded.

Sherlock rocked his hips like he'd practiced with his birthing CD.....his arms were aching.  
"My mum had some of us in the nuns hospital...." Alan was saying.  
John seemed interested. "My mum had Harry on the kitchen floor, ambulance was struck in traffic," he said.  
"You comfy there Sherlock?" Lars kind voice asked, still focused on Sherlock's care. "I can get you a wedge cushion to lean on... It'll give your arms a break."  
Whatever that was Sherlock wanted it. He wasn't saying no to anything this time around.

"I need the toilet....my back hurts "Sherlock sounded increasingly fraught. He had the TENS machine up to the top. It was doing fuck all.  
Lars glanced at him. Neeps heartbeat was steady.... "It could just be pressure Sherlock...... can I take a look? If you're dilated enough we can get you in the birthing pool for a while...."  
"Ok...." Sherlock said.

"I'm going to wait till after the contraction...." Lars felt sympathy for Sherlock as he watched the Omega grab for Alan's hand..... "Push down against my fingers.... "  
Sherlock's moan of pain ended in a gasp.  
"5cm Sherlock...." Lars smiled. "Lets get you in the pool.... if that's still what you'd like? "  
"Jesus.... 5 already lad! That's brilliant !" Alan said and gave Sherlock's hand a kiss. 

The water was deep and private.  
John dimmed the lights all around the room leaving just the pool of water lit with a gentle tranquil light.  
Sherlock had an old t-shirt of Alan's on and nothing else. John could see the pale shape of his bare limbs and penis under the water.  
Lars arm was wet as he bent over to hold a waterproof sonic aid to Sherlock's bump to check on Neep.... The heartbeat was reacting slightly during contractions but going back to normal nice and quickly after.  
The sound of Sherlock's slow , pained breathing filled the room.  
"Baby's fine...." Lars said.  
Sherlock gave a drawn out moan of pain as another contraction began.  
Alan used the jug to pour warm water over Sherlock's aching back and watched Lars scoop some kind of bloody slime out of the water with what looked like a sieve.  
Jesus!

Three hours later.  
Sherlock had both arms slung round Alan's neck and his bare arse facing Lars and John. The last trace of the privacy he'd cared so much about was long gone.  
"Almost seven..." Lars said to John.  
"Owwwww.... Oh fuck..... this hurts......" Sherlock moaned.  
Someone laid a hand on his lower back and circled it as the worst of the pain spiked......  
"Oh..... Oh I can't do this!" Sherlock despaired.  
"Now would be the time, to get you out the pool so I can give you something stronger before the birth Sherlock" Lars said as soon as the pain ebbed,  
Sherlock said yes so fast it made Alan smile. 

The pain was worse out the water.... Sherlock writhed in agony on the bed.... twisting the waterproof pad beneath him up into a crumpled mess.  
"Oh..... fuck.... fuck..... FUCK!" He was losing all control....  
John held out the gas and air.... "You've used this before.... nice slow breaths in and keep breathing till the pain goes...."  
Sherlock snatched at it , shoved it at his face and inhaled deeply enough to burst both his lungs.....  
"I wish I had some of that," Alan said.  
"It's fucking useless...." Sherlock groaned and took another huge inhale. His thighs were shaking.  
"I'm going to give a half dose of pethidine," Lars said and everything became a painful drugged blur for a while....

"I'm hot..... its too hot...." Sherlock babbled. " I need the fan on," there was one next to the bed.  
"It's the pressure Sherlock...." Lars was so calm.  
"I want the fan....." Sherlock begged.  
Alan wiped at his forehead with a cool cloth.... "It's alright love."  
"I don't want that! I want the fan!" Sherlock snapped.  
John turned it on and moved it round to face Sherlock's face....  
"Almost time to push," Lars mouthed at Alan by means of explanation and Alan nodded. 

"Alan.... Alan...." Sherlock clutched desperately at Alan's forearm.  
"You're having a contraction. Use the gas Sherlock...." John reminded him.  
"Ahhhh..... its SHIT.... THE GAS IS SHIT!" Sherlock couldn't stand this.  
Alan winced as Sherlock squeezed his hand so hard the finger bones cracked. Things had never happened this fast before.  
"Sherlock.... breathe the gas... You're doing great " John said.  
"Oh what would you fucking know! You've never pushed something the size of a melon out your arse in your life!" Sherlock wailed illogically.  
John laughed out loud at the scandalised look on Alan's face and saw Lars smile. 

Alan watched Sherlock slump further down the delivery bed. He looked exhausted.  
Lull before the storm.... Lars knew. "John.... can you heat up the radiant crib please..." He asked in a calm voice. He got a delivery pack out and put a clean gown over the top of his scrubs.

"Strong regular contractions every minute lasting a minute...." Lars said. He was aware of Alan's worried eyes fixed on him and Sherlocks fingers digging painfully deep into the muscle of Alan's shoulder. "Sherlock I just need to do an internal....see if you're ready to push...."  
Oh fuck! Sherlock sucked desperately at the gas and air.  
Lars rotated his fingers to try and feel. It wasn't easy.... "Yup he's almost there.... there's a rim of anterior cervix..... You're doing really well Sherlock.... I'm just going to push the cervix lip back a little..... Babies head is right there..... "  
"I'm never doing this again.... FUCK!" Sherlock yelled by way of reply.  
"Can't say as I blame you," Alan muttered grimly. 

The pain was taking Sherlock's breath away....  
Lars waited for the huge contraction to ebb.... "John can you lower the bed please. Sherlock wants Alan to go behind him and support him through pushing....Lets get you in a better position Sherlock ," he said.  
Alan sat on the bed and cradled Sherlock back against him, stroking his short sweaty hair lovingly.... "You've as good as done it lad," he said. "Bloody incredible that's what you are."

Lars slid the delivery sheet beneath Sherlock. "I'm just going to wipe over your perineum with some steriliser., Sherlock."  
Alan's head jerked up. He knew what that meant was about to happen  
"Sherlock.... do you feel like pushing? If you want too , you can.... " Lars encouraged the Omega.  
"No.... " Sherlock said in a voice full of fear and then did.  
Alan felt Sherlock's whole body heaving as he bore down.  
Sherlock gritted his teeth and went again..... every part of his perineum was burning. "Shit... I hate this part!" he said breathlessly.  
Alan huffed a laugh at that craziness.... none of it had looked enjoyable.

Lars cast a look John's way.... John was the designated baby receiver. He stood still and ready arms full of green towel.  
"I'm just going to give you a small episiotomy, Sherlock .... the scar tissue won't stretch ..... we want the head to be born without pressure....."  
Alan made the mistake of looking up just as the flat bladed skin cutting scissors came into view.... "Fuck..." he said in a broken voice and dropped his head down over Sherlock's. He felt like crying.  
Sherlock didn't even feel it. The pain came and he pushed again.... 

"That's it.....keep pushing..... push push push push..... " Lars urged Sherlock on. "Heads right there..... one more go Sherlock..... soon as you feel it..... That's it..... Push....push... keep it coming.....pant..... pant..." He cradled the fragile head in his hands as it emerged. "Look down Alan, here's your son! " There was a horrible burn feeling that made Sherlock cry out....  
"Oh Jesus...." Alan could see a tiny head emerging between Sherlock's blood streaked thighs.  
Lars took his hands away and cleaned the mouth and nose as best he could with some gauze, as he worked he talked, knowing Sherlock needed to know the baby was ok....." Heads out... I'm seeing dark hair Sherlock..... Little push down for me now. Baby's coming up onto your belly Sherlock.....Here he is!"  
Lars laid the baby down on Sherlock briefly ....and deftly clamped and cut the cord....."John!" There was urgency in his voice..... John stepped in. The baby was small, blue and still..... as he lifted it away he could see no signs of life.

On the baby resucitation bed John worked fast.... suctioning the nose and throat and stimulating the tiny heart.... he was dimly aware of a disturbance behind him....  
"Alan!"....Lars voice....  
"I'll not do it to him again.... he needs to see!"  
Suddenly Sherlock was right there..... wrapped in a bloody sheet and held like a baby in Alan's arms. 

John stared at the perfect little face under the airbag and kept going. He was painfully conscious of the silence.....Apgar 1.. Come on! Come on!  
Sherlock couldn't breathe past the crushing agony in his heart.  
"He's cold ...." Lars worked alongside him, fitting a body heat bag round the babies small still body.... Oxygen rich blood started to spread, flooding in under the skin and turning the greyish blue a different colour.... "Apgar.... 4 at five minutes John! He's pinking up....!"  
John saw a little limb stir..... Yes!  
"He moved! Sherlock he moved! Look lad!"  
A little squalling protest cry sounded weakly and carried on.  
"That's it sweetheart.... You cry!" Alan said, broken with sheer relief and gulping back the huge sobs he couldn't hide... "You flipping cry!" 

With Sherlock safely back on the bed. he was surprisingly stoic as Lars swabbed and stitched.  
"He's beautiful! Isn't he beautiful, lad?" Alan sounded so proud.  
Lars looked up with a smile, "He's gorgeous, Alan."  
Sherlock was quiet. Overwhelmed and exhausted. On the far side of the room Neep was crying again and he suddenly felt very far away.... Sherlock saw Alan look up and he tightened his grip on the fistful of Alan's clothes he had a hold on.... He took a deep breath in and bit down on the panic..." Can I see him?" he asked, then paused and asked again, determined...." I want to see our baby. I want to see Billy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because these updates will deal with premature birth I'm going to avoid putting an exact date on Neep's prematurity. I do have a date in my head and have based everything medical around that but obviously I'm not a doctor and I run the risk of getting some details wrong despite all the research. Keeping it vague will avoid that..  
> 


	89. The Ties That Bind Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft finds himself emotionally invested ....
> 
> Sherlock struggles to cope with the physical separation from his baby and John and Lars look for ways to help him bond.
> 
> Alan makes his first phone call as a proud new dad to a recipient who didn't expect to be the first person called....  
> Mycroft is reminded of the importance of his new role as uncle ....and the vulnerability of Riddick's role as Billy's father....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update crosses over with the timeline of the last ....also I've moved Martha meeting Billy to the next update as editing is going slow due to upping my seroquel.  
> Track is Softens by Wet.
> 
> Jam tomorrow.... means all good things will happen at some stage but not yet.
> 
>    
> Faffin....wasting time.  
> Chuffed....pleased/happy.  
> Paggered....exhausted.  
> I'm reight....I'm ok.

Mycroft Holmes stared at the live feed, acutely aware of each passing second.  
The baby had yet to move. It lay limp and lifeless as John stimulated its heart, squeezed air into its lungs and resorted to suction tubes.  
Mycroft took one glance at the agony in his brothers face and had to look away.  
Come along....he willed his tiny nephew on. Don't do this to Sherlock. _Breathe. Live._  
He didn't realise he was holding his own breath..... waiting.  
The baby stirred listlessly.  
Mycroft ran out of the air in his own lungs and was forced to resort to a undignified gasp.  
A thin limb wavered through the air and a second later there was the sound of a faint mewling cry....quite unlike the loud cry of a robust full term infant yet in its own persistent way the very sound of life.  
Mycroft blinked at the screen and concentrated on his own breathing which had unexpectedly thickened at the same time that his eyes watered.

____

 

If Alan Riddick lost concentration and dropped Sherlock; then, regardless of the extenuating emotional circumstances, Mycroft was going to have him strapped to a chair with electrodes applied to the very parts of his anatomy that had resulted in Sherlock's pregnancy in the first instance!  
The man was clearly distraught and in no fit state emotionally to be depended upon physically.  
Sherlock was far too trusting in allowing himself to be lifted up and held.

 

Sherlock's condition concerned him immeasurably. His brother clung tenaciously to a balled handful of Alan's t-shirt making sure Alan stayed alongside him.  
Alan and Lars exchanged words..... communicated, smiled ..... but Sherlock said nothing.  
He lay quietly as Lars cleaned and swabbed, speaking only when spoken too more than once; distracted and absent.  
When Lars produced a needle and began stitching skin Mycroft felt unwell and was forced to look away. Naturally he found himself back watching the baby....  
It was distressed, crying but helpless as John fed a thin blue tube in through its wailing mouth.  
Although, of course, John was acting in the baby's own best interest Mycroft found it unpleasant to watch so small a baby suffer and protest.

 

Billy?  
Mycroft sighed.  
Not William.  
Billy.  
A five letter name was so.... unimposingly brief.  
Billy _..._  
Of course Alan Riddick had to be behind that particular name choice.  
It was so.... _so _.... Northern.__

_____ _

Sherlock wanted to see his son.  
"I'll fetch a wheelchair. Try and eat....You shouldn't be out of bed yet.... ." Lars had made tea and toast..... for both Sherlock and Alan....  
Sherlock wanted his baby....he had no interest in eating or drinking.....  
Alan slid Sherlock's plate closer to him with a coaxing patience until finally Sherlock gave in and took a bite.....the Elite Omega ended up demolishing the hot buttery slice  
Alan placed his own slice on Sherlock's plate without a word.  
Sherlock ate it too ..... just for somethig to do.  
It felt strange not having Neep moving inside him.  
Empty.  
He was relieved when Lars appeared with the wheelchair to make seeing Neep possible.

Sherlock fought back an overwhelming need to cry.  
In the half hour he'd spent on the other side of the room being stitched, washed and putting on clean pj's everything had changed.... there were square red and white sticky things with different coloured wires stuck to Billy's bare chest. Half of his arm was in a clumsy looking velcro splint, there was a thin blue tube in the corner of his mouth that was stuck down with clear tape going all the way across his chin and some sort of cuff fastened around one of his tiny feet.  
Billy's face was hidden under a white hat, a grey eye mask and a plastic breathing tube that was tied onto his face with little white ties... fastened to his tiny nose with tubes poking up each delicate nostril, it looked solid and uncomfortable. More wires trailed across his tiny limbs, all tangled up together. He was naked except for a nappy and one of the velcro tabs on the splint was undone and sticking up.  
Sherlock didn't know which part of all that upset him most......Yes he did.... _all of it. ___

____

 

"Hey.... " John crouched down to talk to him. "You okay Sherlock? I know it's intimidating, all this equipment....." He'd planned on going over to talk about the baby's condition but Sherlock had taken the initiative and beaten him to it.  
Sherlock didn't think he was crying but his disordered breathing made it sound like he was, or maybe he was and just didn't know it.... He looked up and saw whatever emotion he was feeling reflected on Riddick's stricken face.  
Lars intervened.... "Why don't you take a seat here Alan, next to Sherlock and John'll explain what all this equipment is doing to help?"  
Riddick swallowed hard and sat down.  
"He had some trouble breathing to begin with...." John began....  
"Billy.... his names Billy...." Sherlock said. He didn't know why that was so important suddenly but it just was....  
John smiled...." You had a name picked all along? It suits him.... Ok.... so Billy needed a little help to begin breathing .....he's on CPAP ........ a feeding tube .....I've an IV in......taken some bloods ......."  
Sherlock heard words but whole tracts of what John was saying didn't seem understandable or even a recognisable language until suddenly he'd finished explaining and said... "Billy is doing well considering...."  
Considering he's premature and should still be safe inside me ..... Sherlock filled in the blanks inside his own head.

Alan fought to follow what John was saying, normally the lad'd be the one to deal with owt technical like this....  
John went patiently over everything he had just said again knowing it would take time before everything made sense to Sherlock or Alan.... "It's a shock, I know.... Billy was born weighing a little less than the scan estimates. We expected him to be about 3lbs and he is 2.8 lbs instead.... He's anaemic, but most preemies are ....We need to keep him warm and the radiant crib will do that. Breathing wise.... Billy was making good efforts to breathe by himself, the injections you had really helped his lungs Sherlock, but it's a lot of work for him. On CPAP .... a constant flow of air will keep Billy's air passages open. We can review that and move him onto a nasal canula when he is ready.... but for now CPAP is the best option for him." He waited to give Sherlock and Alan time for any questions.....  
Alan was very aware it all sounded like jam tomorrow... Sherlock's silence was worrying him....."His eyes.... is ow't wrong with them?" He hated to think of Billy being left in the dark..  
John avoided a direct answer. "Billy's eyes are open but because he's been born a bit early bright light and constant visual stimuli can cause him stress. Think of it like a sleep mask, we're just making sure he gets as much quality rest as he needs.....once he's ready we'll take the eye mask off and dim the lights instead. Giving them a rest for another few days won't hurt him.... "  
Billy didn't seem to agree.... he gave a weak tremulous cry of complaint and everyone looked in his direction at the same time.....  
"Can I hold him?" Sherlock was so desperate to have Billy back he ached and just as terrified John would say no in equal measure.  
"I'm sorry .... " John began and Sherlock tuned the rest out because he knew how a refusal to let him hold his son sounded and this time he'd hoped it would be different..... 

When Alan touched him Sherlock blinked back into himself.....  
"Did you hear all that? What John was saying?" Alan asked.  
Sherlock didn't want to admit he'd only heard odd words.....  
Alan frowned. "So? Do you want too?"  
_Want too what? I can't hold Billy I know that. What else could I possibly want to do right now? _Sherlock felt exhausted, staring wordlessly at Billy from too far away....__  
Alan was sure Sherlock had'nt heard any of what had just been talked about... "What John said....? Are you up for giving it a try?"  
_I don't know what John said it all sounded like a foreign language and I couldn't hold onto any of it _.... "Why can't I hold Billy?" Sherlock said and this time it was definitely him crying, he could feel the fast streaking tears as they raced down his face.  
"C'mon here to me," Alan said. "It's alright.... You can hold his hand, John says...."__

____

____

____

Sherlock scrubbed the skin sterilizer thoroughly around his finger nails and over the calloused ends of his fingers then took more sanitiser and did it again. He couldn't run the risk of making Billy any weaker than he was....  
Alan wondered if Sherlock would accept his hands were already clean enough at any stage before the lad scrubbed his own skin red raw obsessively.  
"I think that's good Sherlock...." Lars said and Alan heard the concern at Sherlock's repetitive actions in Lars voice. 

John said to talk or touch but not both at the same time and to talk before the touch so Billy could recognise the voices he'd heard from inside the womb...  
The trouble was Sherlock couldn't think of a single word let alone a sentence full of them and he didn't want to just touch Billy without saying anything and startle him....  
"Here's your mum...." Alan said gently and Sherlock looked at him in relief that someone had the words he had lost....  
Sherlock touched two fingers to the palm of Billy's hand and felt the tiny, perfect fingers close around his own and hold on tenaciously.... .  
Alan forgot the 'no talking touch' rule immediately... "Awe...look at him Sher...look at him cling on!"  
At the sound of a voice Billy's hand let go and he spread his fingers out and flailed his thin arm out wide...  
" Shite....sorry!" Alan said.  
Sherlock waited for Billy to settle then let two of his fingers cover Billy's perfect, curled little hand protectively and just like that , Billy held on again.... Sherlock looked over at Alan and swapped smiles.

 

Lars tried to help ease the feeling of disconnected loss he knew Sherlock must be feeling...."Did you want to try expressing Sherlock?"  
What? Sherlock stared at Lars in hope of some clue.....  
Alan gave Sherlock a worried look..... "Lars was asking how'd you feel about feeding Neep.... Billy?" he corrected himself, not used to the name change yet.  
"How can I feed him if I can't hold him?" Sherlock felt so confused. Lost in a sea of words and achingly craving his baby .....  
"Billy won't have a sucking reflex yet.... but colostrom would do him so much good Sherlock. Its full of maternal antibodies. Its something only you can do for him..... You'd express to begin with and John will feed it him through the tube." Lars hoped doing something would help Sherlock to feel connected ......  
"I don't know how to express.... I've never...." Sherlock said and he sounded upset by that.  
"That's ok.... I'll help you get started. If that's okay?" Lars offered.  
Sherlock nodded.

Sherlock had expected a pump....  
Why did everything he expected turn out to be quite different. He wouldn't be using a pump yet...  
Lars had bought him a hot flannel to press over his nipples. Apparently it'd help.  
"Hand expressing is gentler and easier to start with.... " Lars was calm and reassurring..... "If you express 8-10 times a day it'll establish a supply.... then when your milk comes in we can switch you to a pump until Billy is ready to try feeding...." He laid a photo of Billy down on Sherlock's lap.... "Looking at Billy can help make things flow more easily, there's a natural let down reflex..."  
Sherlock picked the photo up fast before anything could happen to it to take it away .....  
Lars said....."Alan I was going to offer you my phone? If you've some calls you'd like to make....."  
Sherlock tightened his grip on Alan ... Oh no you don't. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You could be arrested, taken away....anything....  
Alan accepted the ever tightening grasp on his forearm without complaint.... "Thanks. Maybe later.... if that's alright? I'll wait here with Sherlock while he has a go at the milk thing."

It was strange watching Lars show Sherlock what to do..... even stranger to see Sherlock touch his own nipple and the slight swelling behind it, Alan had never seen him touch himself there before.  
Sherlock kept his head down, embarrassed and awkward but determined.  
The little cup had just a few thin watery drops in it. "I don't have very much," Sherlock's disappointment in himself was unhidden.  
"No... that's good. At this stage we're just stimulating a first suckle .... Billy only has a tiny stomach about as big as a cherry...." Lars smiled. "I'll take it over to John."  
Riddick watched Sherlock hold the photo in his hands and stare down at it helplessly. " You alright love?" he asked.  
"He's going to starve if he has to rely on me," Sherlock said flippantly as though he was joking.  
"Don't be daft!" Alan said. He hating seeing the lad doubt himself... "You heard Lars, nobodies expecting pints of the stuff. Billy's just happy to get some food in his belly...." He let his palm cup Sherlock's cheek.....  
Sherlock leant into the touch and closed his eyes. He didn't mean to fall asleep but somehow he did.

 

When Mycroft's phone rang he wasn't expecting the call, despite having watched Riddick borrow Lars phone and step outside into the corridor with the obvious intention of making a number of phone calls while Sherlock slept... He assumed that Alan had chosen a member of his own sprawling family to notify. There was an aunt and several brothers, Mycroft knew....yet as his own phone rang it became apparent that Alan had elected to call him first. Mycroft rarely confessed himself to be taken aback yet now he found himself unprepared....  
"A little lad.... 2lb 8ozs.... blue eyes , dark hair, little beauty just like his mum.... They've had to give him a little help with the breathing and keeping warm, he's in an incubator....but he's doing good.... so far .... touch wood.... " Alan said proudly the second Mycroft answered the call.  
Mycroft watched Alan touch the wooden door frame to avert bad luck. The man was the strangest mixture of practical and illogically superstitious. "Congratulations Alan," he said. "And Sherlock? How is he?"  
"Blaming himself for Neep coming early, I reckon" Alan said. "He's quiet. You know how he goes."

Mycroft suspected as much himself. "He is not too blame. If his cervix was not so damaged he could carry to term."  
"If we told him that and whose really to blame for it....."  
"Aric wants the advantage a genuine response to that revelation will give us....." Mycroft rejected any idea of sharing what they knew with Sherlock. "We have so few advantages , to fail to use any we do have in court would be foolish...."  
" More fucking games?" Alan's sigh lacked patience. "If he asks I'll not lie now the baby's born."  
"Why would Sherlock ask such a thing....?" Why had Sherlock said nothing to Alan about what he know knew concerning the charges of rape? Mycroft relied upon distraction to control Riddick.... "You have a bigger confession to manage."  
"Aye I know." Regret saturated Alan's voice. "I want him to have today.... I'll tell him but not yet.... He's tired and he's low about the baby being away from him.... I never should have fucking agreed to lie in the first place. I knew better.... and so did you..That's why you've not been in here, isn't it? You don't know how he'll take finding out?"  
Mycroft allowed himself a sigh. No , I already know how he'll react to that particular situation.... if Sherlock hasn't confronted you yet then he must have his reasons..." I assumed he would prefer to have some time before receiving visitors," he lied.  
Alan snorted and it took a moment for Mycroft too recognise it was a derisory sound..... "You need to get your arse down here and show your face....How else is he meant to know you give a toss 'bout having a new nephew?"  
Mycroft blinked and attempted to remove the graphic instructions involving varied, widely separated body parts in order too keep the advice which he knew to be of value.... "I hardly think Sherlock wants to see me so soon after the birth ....?"  
" Course he does. I do an' all... You're the only one of Billy's uncles wi' any common sense ... Joe and me are brothers but if you left him a black cat to mind he'd like as not return you a white dog and swear blind that was what you left with him...."  
Mycroft frowned as he attempted to extract the anecdotal from the vernacular....then realised exactly what Alan Riddick had just said...." I'll be there as soon as I can, " he said.  
Riddick walked down the corridor , stood still and stared suspiciously up right into the camera lens... "Right.....well .....stop faffin about else Martha will be here ahead of you. I'm calling her in a minute and wild horses wouldn't stop her coming ...."

Mycroft was the rising star of British espionage....gaining intimate information was his stock in trade.... Although this was of no national importance and merely sheer curiosity he waited to see who would receive Alan's next call as he watched Alan make it... The Aunt who had been such a steadying influence was next of course..... Riddick's Yorkshire accent had thickened noticeably....  
  
" Sorry to get you out the bingo.... happen I've news for you.... Sherlock had the baby..... A little beauty. Dark hair like his mum.... Billy .... No, Sherlock chose it....aye I'm chuffed, course I am.... Sherlock's paggered....No he did it all wi'out the epidural... Oh aye he's had a few stitches down below... it happened fast" Alan dropped his head down and wiped a hand over his eyes and Mycroft was taken aback to realise how emotional the man still was..... "I'm reight, no need to fuss over me it's Sherlock did all the hard work.... Aye I'll ask can I take some photos of Billy for you. I don't know when we'll be able to bring him up to meet family.. John said it'll be a while before we...." he corrected himself knowing he'd not get to be there when the day came... "before _Sherlock _can bring him home...."  
__


	90. Vincit Omnia Veritas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha visits baby Billy....
> 
> Sherlock makes a few surprising deductions of his own...and tries to keep Alan within sight and safe.
> 
> News that Sherlock has been safely delivered of a son is met with mixed reactions at the Bond Court.... Mycroft makes his acceptance of the new arrival quite clear.  
> The Legate reaches an inevitable legal decision that will have far reaching consequences....
> 
> Alan tries to confess all but Sherlock isn't ready to let him ....
> 
> Billy has another visitor....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincit Omnia Veritas.... truth conquers all.
> 
> Winding her up.... teasing/joking to see the reaction.  
> Bit shook...to be upset/feeling weak.
> 
> Track is Sleep by Craig Armstrong.

Alan had never heard so much cooing come from anything that wasn't a coop full of racing pigeons in his life.....  
"Ohhhh aren't you a perfect little doll..... Ohhhh look at his sweet little face, John..... Don't you look just like your mummy, Billy? Ohhhhh yes you do!.... Whose got his mummy's lovely face?....You do, don't you?"  
Riddick was just about keeping a straight face despite provocations but watching Sherlock and John desperately fighting back identical fits of giggling wasn't helping him any. Suddenly Martha zeroed in on him.... " I can see you in his face too Alan..... he has your chin.... Ohhhh yes he does! Don't you Billy? Ohhh yes you do look like your daddy too .... don't you poppet...."  
"Oh aye? You can see that under the hat, the mask, the tape and the eye googles clear enough ...." Alan teased and Martha swatted him across the bottom with the cuddly toy dog she'd bought.....  
John made an urgent grab for the medical notes and stared down at the pages .... shoulders shaking with silent giggles. He daren't even glance at Sherlock....  
"Oh behave yourself, John Watson.... whatever is the matter with you today!" Martha scolded.  
Sherlock gave a strangled sound and ducked his head down to hide his own laughter as Alan stared stoically ahead, mouth twitching at the corners.....  
Martha beamed down at Billy.... "Isn't it nice to see everyone equally happy, Billy?" she said. "Oooh yes it is...isn't it!" 

 

Sherlock was exhausted.... it was easier to let everyone else talk, turn his body sideways, rest his head against the pillow and close his eyes, just for a few minutes...... vaguely aware of Alan's thumb caressing the side of his palm as he lingered on the edges of sleep. .  
"He's such a tiny baby.... and poor Sherlock can't even give him a proper cuddle yet, John....." Now Martha thought Sherlock couldn't hear them talk she showed all her concern.  
Sherlock kept his eyes closed although it went against every instinct.  
Alan frowned....he wouldn't have minded touching Billy but nobody had as much as asked him.... "He came early he's still some bit of growing to do...." he said as his thumb settled against the bone of Sherlock's wrist and stroked. It was strange, this new feeling that he had to defend someone new as well as Sherlock.  
John tried to reassure them both..... "Billy's small for dates on top of being premature but he's stronger than he looks, he was grabbing at my hand earlier when I was trying to put the IV line in...."  
Alan hadn't known that.... he found himself feeling grateful that John had reminded him Billy was a fighter no matter how fragile he looked.

"Well tiny or not.... he is just the most beautiful little baby I've ever seen!" Martha said adoringly... "and I _can _see bits of both of you in him regardless of what you think Alan!"__  
John could too though he hadn't said so.  
"Dunno about that. Sherlock was a bonny baby. I don't reckon I'd have won any prizes mind...." Alan said.  
"Did Mycroft tell you that?" John was puzzled..... it could only have been Mycroft surely but babies seemed an odd topic for Sherlock's brother and Alan to have discussed.  
Riddick answered awkwardly.... "Aye .... him and me were talking families, he's a fair few photos.... It came up is all....."  
Sherlock almost opened his eyes in surprise. Mycroft never randomly mentioned anything, which meant Alan had asked him about it .... and they'd looked through the photo albums together. 

____

 

 

The only sound was the loud, regular ticking of the ornate mantle clock. Aric had been sat in the quiet , red walled room over-looking the dark inner courtyard for several hours. He'd been served three pots of coffee and drunk them all. He'd given into the craving and smoked one pipe of tobacco....  
"No news I'm afraid.....Mr Magnussen still remains uncontactable....." a harried looking court official in his late 50s with a greasy scalp, thin grey hair and overly large nostrils, intoned nasally.  
" I see..... " Aric said mildly...he'd finished with the stacked paperwork to his left and began work on the stacked pile of legal papers to his right when his phone sounded. ....  
"You are late Aric.... Zidney is eating your cooked over water salmon....." Aprielle moved the phone and Aric was able to watch the cat take a delicate mouthful of poached salmon from his plate.  
"It did not go to waste if ZIdney enjoyed it, although I am sorry to miss dining with you both," Aric smiled as Aprielle's face came back into view. "Charles Magnussen has made himself impossible to reach ."  
Aprielle frowned. "More of his crazy mind games, Aric?" He made a spiralling gesture by one ear with his bandaged hand to indicate an unravelling mind. "The man is.... how do you say ... a penis face?"  
"A dickhead...." Aric chuckled.... "He will push it to the last moment before he could be held in contempt just to annoy us. Milne will already have drawn the paternity test paperwork up days ago.... but to accomodate us here at the Court would be too easy.... " he took a mouthful of tepid black coffee and swilled it around inside his mouth to distract him from the craving for tobacco.  
Aprielle tilted the phone away suddenly so Aric could watch Zidney cleaning his whiskers meticulously..... "He lives in a penthouse does he not? You should tell him Sherlock says he'll return only if Magnussen can be downstairs within two minutes.... he'd jump out a top floor window to be down there faster if he thought that will happen... "  
Aric choked on his mouthful of coffee and his wet fit of wild coughing sent Zidney scattering from the table in a streak of fur......  
Aprielle pursed his lips...." I hope you haven't been smoking your pipe?" he said shrewdly.

There was a warming fire in the Legate's chambers and the surprisngly frugal remains of a late meal of bread and French onion soup were being cleared away by the Usher.  
The Legate was more abrupt than usual. Magnussen's all too predictable delay had added hours to his already long day and he was short of patience..... "Gentlemen..... take a seat if you will.....you'll have to make do with Mungo and myself at this late hour.... Herr Weber what papers do you have for me?"  
"Change In Maternal Circumstances, Legate..... Sherlock was delivered of a son today."  
The Legate was openly surprised. Sherlock had looked to be in the early months of a pregnancy. "I had no idea the pregnancy was so advanced."  
"Labour began unexpectedly and early, Legate." Mycroft explained... and saw the immediate sly hope that Sherlock had miscarried in Charles face..... the spite of such a wish unhidden and cruel.  
The Legate scanned the documents quickly then passed them over to Mungo for his perusal... "Congratulations. Alpha or Omega?" He deliberately avoided looking at either Magnusen or Mycroft as he spoke, remaining carefully neutral.  
"Omega, Legate. A premature baby boy," Mycroft watched Magnussen's every gesture.... the Alpha had pressed his foot down hard in an involuntary gesture, digging the sole of his shoe into the Legate's antique rug in twisting motion..... his gesture of grinding something underfoot was unmistakeable!  
"Born early....eh?" Mungo barked the question out, "something wrong with it is there?"  
"On the contrary.... Perfectly normal and doing as well as can be expected." Mycroft managed to keep the smoothness in his tone yet instil it with a measure of contempt for the ignorance of the assumption. "

Charles gave a low seething hiss and Milne hastened to intervene tactfully before the Legate noticed the display of anger..... "While Charles is relieved his Omega has survived the ordeal of childbirth.... an offence of rape has clearly been committed and this child is the unfortunate result. Charles is Sherlock's sole lawful Alpha..... for justice to be served the guilty Alpha must be identified..... Alan Riddick and Dr Watson must both be tested and the father arrested.... "  
"I don't need reminding of my obligations with regard to justice, Mr Milne...." The Legate drew the attention of all present to his authority here.  
"The baby Mr Milne terms an 'unfortunate result' I welcome as a beloved part of the Holmes family of which I am Dominus! " Mycroft said the traditional words even though he rarely referred to himself by the archaic term. "My brother has just given birth prematurely.... he is in no physical or mental condition to deal with the additional distress the immediate arrest of an integral part of his support network will cause!"  
"Then he should have kept his legs closed to all except his bonded Alpha!" Mungo said coarsely.  
Mycroft rarely swore but , just for an instant, he wished he did as the perfect retort occurred to him. It consisted of two short words , the first of which began with F and ended in K and the second of which was 'you'....  
Alan would most definitely have said it.... if only he were there.

"Herr Weber, what objections do you have to an immediate DNA test of both putative fathers?" The Legate sought clarity from the lawyer who always seemed to remain cool and collected.  
"Several Legate..... there is a real concern that establishing paternity now may damage Sherlock's hopes of bond severance. Media coverage has, as I'm sure you are aware, been one sided and overwhelmingly, some might say rabidly, pro-alpha...." Aric was quick to change tack and move on, having made his point about Magnussen's open bias and the way he dominated media opinion..... "Secondly.... Alan Riddick in particular is a key eyewitness to the many incidences of rape and physical abuse suffered by Sherlock.... at the very least any evidence he can give could be significantly undermined in the eyes of the court should he stand in the dock accused of Sherlock's rape and ...."  
"My learned colleague Herr Weber makes it sound as though sexual contact between the Holmes Omega and Alan Riddick was as rare as hens with teeth! An unlikely scenario.... far more probable that multiple acts of rape have taken place over a period of months!" Milnes objected strongly " Your Honour....wild claims that the Holmes Omega was abused to any unacceptable degree by Mr Magnussen are yet to be established as credible ..... let us deal with the proven facts.... Alan Riddick is responsible for the grooming, abduction , rape and subsequent impregnation of a bonded Omega .....Why allow him any more time to slake his lust!"  
The Legate asked his own question by way of response. "Do Mr Riddick and Dr Watson both consent to DNA testing ?"  
"No. One refuses to do so, Legate." Aric replied.  
"Riddick refuses does he? " Mungo barked a laugh. "Well there's the father Aubyn.... why else would that Yorskhire trash refuse if not to try and save his own skin?"  
" It is Dr Watson who refuses.... Legate, my honorable friend would have you believe that his only interest lies in the reasonable prosecution of an alleged rapist.... but the inclusion of Dr Watson in these legal papers suggests otherwise. Mud sticks. We seek to know the grounds on which John is accused since my honourable colleague himself just claimed to able to prove Alan responsible!" Aric knew Magnussen had to be aware that the father was Alan.....and he was determined to prevent John being falsely named and suffering the consequences.  
Mycroft spoke on behalf of John.... " Both my brother and Dr Watson vehemently deny even the most remote possibility that John could be the father. Their relationship is one of committed friendship and nothing more. It is not sexual. These accusations against Dr Watson are malicious, groundless.... "  
"Friends!" Charles sneered. "What unbonded Alpha seeks mere friendship from an Omega like Sherlock!"  
"Those who can see the unique individual before the sexual opportunity for predation....unlike yourself!" Mycroft snapped back.

Aric seized his opportunity before anyone else could do so..."Gossip of this nature can do considerable damage, especially if fuelled by lurid headlines with scant regard for the truth. Dr Watson stands to lose his good name....he is likely to be suspended from his employment as a Doctor at St Barts, if he is linked however falsely in the media to a charge of rape concerning a bonded Omega."  
"Be careful what you accuse me of, lawyer! I can ruin you!" Charles was livid.  
"Mr Magnussen! Under no circumstances will you insult or threaten a lawyer within my Chambers! Do I make myself clear?" The Legate was outraged.  
Magnussen stared arrogantly back...."You do."

"If I were you Charles I'd have every Alpha Sherlock's had any contact with tested.... for all you know they've all had him." Mungo relished the lurid image in his own mind. "Who knows who fathered this new bairn.... How fond of that pretty eyed brother of yours are you Mycroft?"  
Mycroft's tone was deadly... " How dare you make such filthy accusations!"  
"Och you wouldn't be the first to sit there po faced and be balls deep in an arse inside the bedroom!!" Mungo roared back.  
"Your insinuations are repellent!" Mycroft was white faced and openly furious....

Missing his gavel the Legate simply lifted one corner of the heavy ledger upon his desk and let it fall back down upon the wood of his huge desk with a loud bang...... "That will do!... Herr Weber, is Mr Riddick aware a refusal now could prejudice his own trial, should it later be shown that he refused to claim his own son when given opportunity to do so?"  
"He is your Honour. It is Dr Watson who refuses to supply a DNA sample unless ordered to do so by a court, he denies any possibility he could be the biological father!"  
Magnussen cut through Aric's words furiously and seized control of the conversation.... "Then Riddick fathered the bastard!"  
"Mr Magnussen!" The Legate's voice clashed with Mycroft's for a brief instant before Mycroft fell silent respectfully...... "You are referring to a newborn baby! Kindly temper your language !"  
For a second Charles locked eyes with the Legate in open confrontation..... "Very well ...." he said stiffly.  
The Legate's level gaze remained on Magnussen..."Mr Milne.... I'll allow you ten minutes to speak privately with your client concerning these new accusations against Dr Watson. I will require to see some evidence that the relationship between Dr Watson and Sherlock has ever been more than that of friends.... I won't ruin a man's good name or career on a hunch or participate in a malice fueled vendetta.... " He stood firm. "Take this time to decide if this is indeed the direction you want to pursue legally."

Ten minutes passed slowly.  
Mycroft was acutely aware of each single moment.

"Well Mr Milne?"  
"Legate....." Milne hastened to smooth things over.... "Mr Magnussen has been under prolonged stress, deprived of access to his mate for a good many heats by now..... any bonded Alpha understands his frustration, both sexual and emotional ....."  
_Deprived of using Sherlock as his punch bag would be a more apt analogy _...Mycroft struggled for control over his own rising level of agitation.__  
"Am I assume you want to want to press ahead with Court ordered paternity tests for both Dr Watson and Mr Riddick? A simple yes or no answer will suffice." The Legate waited for Milnes reply.  
"Upon reflection we do not Legate. We accept that Alan Riddick is most likely responsible."  
"A wise decision...." The Legate began turning the pages....looking for the places where he would sign to make the court order legal.... "Anything more to add Herr Weber?"  
"If I may , Legate." Aric laid down a letter down upon the desk top.  
The Legate reached for it..... "You are willing to stand bail on Alan Riddick's behalf should it be required, Mr Holmes ?" he sounded surprised.  
" You never wanted me to have Sherlock! Now you openly side with a low born rapist!" Spittle from Charles mouth flecked the table top....  
"As opposed to a high born rapist such as yourself? I do indeed..... rape is rape regardless of rank. " Mycroft stayed calm in the face of Charles ranting fury.... "Whatever the sum of money asked as bail for Mr Riddick, Legate.... I am more than happy to meet it.... "  
"Legate, I must protest!" Milne intejected. "We oppose the granting of bail!"  
"Should bail be granted , Mr Riddick would of course be willing to surrender his passport and wear an ankle monitor at all times, "Aric's demeanor was as placid as ever..... as though Charles hadn't just sprayed rabid spittle all over his legal documents.....  
"Legate.... this is a highly trained ex soldier...a man who absconded with the Holmes Omega and remained at large and off grid for a period of several months..... to give him another chance to vanish would be sheer insanity!" Milne protested, voice raised in disbelief.

____

The Legate gestured brusquely for silence, having had quite enough.... "I agree. I can't allow bail, Herr Weber. Given the gravity of the charges he faces Mr Riddick poses a clear flight risk.... Mr Magnussen you may proceed to bring criminal charges when you have the proven results of paternity tests. I'll order DNA testing to take place within 48 hours of the birth, you may see the senior usher for a list of court approved facilities and doctors you can use..." Milne locked eyes triumphantly with Charles. and saw the man smile with cold satisfaction...."Should you wish to appeal on behalf of Mr Riddick against any charges you may do when he is charged, Herr Weber.... be aware it will not be in Mr Riddick's best interests to waste time with such an appeal if he is indeed the biological father of.... What is the name of the child, Mr Holmes?"  
"Billy......" Mycroft said in a dull monotone. Desperately thinking of a way to postpone Alan's inevitable arrest for longer. 48 hours was no time at all.

"Billy" .... The Legate added Billy's name and a date two weeks hence to the blank spaces on his desk diary in an elegant copperplate hand and applied his seal to the melted red wax on the authorisation papers.... "Once again I offer my congratulations on a safe delivery .... Court will adjorn for a period of two weeks to allow Sherlock time to recover from the physical ordeal of childbirth. Herr Weber both your clients should already be aware of the full ramifications of a positive DNA result, if Mr Riddick is indeed responsible he will be remanded in custody without hope of bail."  
Mycroft concentrated intently on the sensation of his ribcage expanding with each breath he took.....  
"Leagte, if you could impose a media ban on revealing Mr Riddick's identity until proven guilty ...." Aric tried to claw back some measure of media protection for both Alan and Sherlock.  
The Legate shook his head....." I think not if legally he has committed rape," he sympathised with Weber's position but had his own responsibilities to keep the process open and transparent. "The law is unambiguous on this issue....a bonded Omega cannot give consent." He looked directly at Magnussen..... "We begin again on the 23rd..... be warned... I will tolerate no more game playing or challenges to my authority...... "

 

There was no sign of Alan.....  
Over on Billy's side of the room alarms were beeping again..... John and Lars were either side of Billy's incubator.  
Shit.... What was happening with Neep? Sherlock rolled over and pushed himself up..... everything ached as he swung his bare feet down to the ground.  
Standing felt weird now there was no solidity in his middle stopping him from bending forward to get up.... As he caught sight of himself in the full length glass of the door Sherlock had an instant flashback to the time he'd 'operated' on teddy with some scissors and a knitting needle. The bear had looked how his body now felt..... battered and empty with a lingering look of betrayal behind its fixed smile.

"Incoming," John said in a low aside.  
Lars nodded and stood waiting for John to smooth out the clean sheet . He held Billy carefully in both hands as he laid him back down . The boneless feeling of the babies vulnerable body making him take care with everything he did despite the added pressure of the beeping alarms and the Billy's panicked crying.  
"Where's Alan?"  
"His brother rang. He said he'd take the call outside in the corridor so he didn't wake you." Lars said.  
"Joe?" Sherlock hoped so. Joe was the closest brother.  
"Yeah that was the name." John greeted Sherlock with a smile. "Pretty sure I remember Lars telling you not to get up without telling one of us first ....."  
"Did you?" Sherlock perched on the edge of the nearest chair gingerly. The end of his spine was starting to feel really bruised. " I heard beeping."  
"That was the alarm. Lots of preemies have a few issues remembering they have to breathe for themselves now..... The alarm sounds each time Billy forgets...."  
Sherlock looked at Billy laying there..... How could you forget something as important as breathing, Neep? How? Clearly you can't be left alone for a second..... It was a terrifying thought."Can I stay here for a while? Just to watch him?"  
"You don't need to ask anyone's permission, Sherlock.... he's your son...." John reminded him gently.  
"I'll fetch you a hollow cushion to sit on," Lars said, noticing how Sherlock was sat right on the edge of the chair. "It'll make you more comfortable."  
"We can ring for some food if you're hungry? Mycroft's got a team of gourmet chefs waiting for your orders apparently!" John wasn't even joking.....  
Sherlock's face lit up.... "Do you think he'd be really pissed off if we sent out for Chinese?"  
John grinned.... "Yup. Tell me what you and Alan want and I'll ring out for some."

"He's so little.... I think nothing I bought for him to wear is small enough," Sherlock peered in and tried to get the measure of Billy with his eyes.  
"He'll grow ....." John hesitated.... "You know he'll have to stay here until he reaches 5lbs in weight...."  
Sherlock didn't look up.... his long fingers stroked the side of the incubator anxiously. "How long?"  
"It depends.... he may gain weight fast and have no issues but its possible he may need a longer stay.... we'll need him to be feeding well before he can be discharged.... Around the date he was due to be born is a rough estimate....." He didn't see Sherlock close his eyes in pain at the answer.  
If Billy had to stay here then Alan could be gone before he ever got to come home! Sherlock stared so hard into the crib his eyes hurt , trying to make sure he didn't cry.  
As though he sensed Sherlock was upset and needed a distraction Billy started to stir, raising a hand up to the tube in his mouth in a vague movement that Sherlock thought was random.  
"I think Billy's ready for another feed," Lars said.  
"Oh typical...." Sherlock's eyes were soft with tears as he gazed down at his son.... "Now you decide you're hungry, when I'm about to eat a proper meal for the first time all day...."  
"Better get used to that, Sherlock." John grinned.  
Lars smiled at John. "Do you need any help with expressing, Sherlock?"  
"Probably," Sherlock admitted. He needed help with everything. Nothing seemed to be happening naturally like it would if he could only hold Billy to feed him.

Alan didn't expect to see everyone sat around tucking into takeaway at this time of night. "What's all this then? Thought you'd be asleep for a while yet....." Alan reached down over Sherlock's shoulder to steal a dumpling and was touched when Sherlock took advantage of the closeness to lean against him and stay there.  
" Billy was hungry....." Sherlock said. "I couldn't express much... I tried but nothing was coming out."  
"You did great Sherlock," Lars was reassurringly positive.  
"Course he did," Alan pressed a kiss into Sherlock's temple.."Where'd all this food come from?"  
John reached for some more beef to avoid being seen watching Sherlock with Alan....." Mycroft has a team of chefs on stand-by 24/7.... "  
That figured ..... "So you're all eating from The Golden Lotus why?"  
"Felt like Chinese," Sherlock watched Alan chew. "Joe rang you ?"  
"Aye.. from the pub. Wetting Billy's head. Chucking out time.... I could barely hear him over the noise..... he said to tell you well done lad.... him and Meera sent summat for the baby in the post."  
Sherlock wondered what it'd be.  
"Probably summat to do with rugby," Alan admitted, rubbing at one side of his neck. Being crouched down over the birthing pool with Sherlock clinging on like a limpet round his neck had left him feeling sore.  
Sherlock noticed the tell tale gesture..... "Your necks hurting.... you can't sleep in a chair...."  
"Reckon not," Alan didn't take the comment seriously. "I'll be right. I've some muscle rub at home.... I was thinking I should make a move in a while. Grab a shower and bring you in anything you need first thing in the morning... mebbe some of Greg's files?" For once Sherlock couldn't be in a safer place... he could let go of his permanent vigilance.

Instant fear griped at Sherlock's gut. If Alan left he'd be out of sight and there'd be no way of knowing if he was safe....or being arrested. "I can't sleep without you, you know that!"  
"You're shattered , lad. Soon as your head hits that pillow you'll be out like a light" Alan needed the night to work out what the Hell he was going to say to Sherlock come the morning , he hadn't a clue how the Hell he was going to start.....  
" I won't!" Sherlock balked at the reassurance. "I want you to stay."  
Lars looked up from his own plate in surprise and saw John had done exactly the same..... neither had expected Sherlock to have a problem with staying the night.  
"You just had a baby" Alan pointed out the obvious facts.... last thing he'd expected was for Sherlock to say no but the Omega could be unpredictable. "You need your sleep."  
Sherlock pushed his plate away, knowing full well the sight of him rejecting food always worried everyone.... " I won't sleep if you don't stay with me. There's room.....we spoon anyway.... and I like you heavy breathing into my hair."  
Alan knew he was gawping like a gormless berk; aware of John and Lars waiting for him to deal with the awkward situation in the best way for Sherlock...." You need the bed to yourself. You can't have me squashing you into a third of the mattress" A worrying thought occurred to him...."I don't ruddy snore do I?"  
"Sometimes." Sherlock said because it was true. He mouthed the next words silently so only Alan would see..... _Please don't go_  
Alan had a vivid flashback to the time he'd walked away from Sherlock and left him behind in a hospital ward...... but still tried not to look like a soft touch in front of John..... "Aye.... well..." he rubbed a hand over the bunched muscle of his neck absently.... "daresay you could use some help getting in and out of bed and all that.... You're bound to be a bit shook.... I'll stay in the chair tonight and lend you a hand if you need owt. "  
There was an incredulously amused look on John's face that showed the other Alpha didn't believe any of the flimsy excuses for giving into Sherlock and staying the night that Alan had just given.

____

Alan turned off the lights over the delivery bed. "If Billy wakes for another feed and you're sleeping what'll I do?" Alan still didn't know of a foolproof way to wake Sherlock from his sleep without jolting him back into the past.  
"I set an alarm.... Every two hours. Lars said thats right.... " Sherlock doubted he'd sleep. It felt weird having Billy over on the far side of the room instead of inside him.  
"Jesus, every two hours? You won't get any sleep..." Alan worried.  
"It's ok.... " Sherlock hesitated. " Alan..... does Neep look like you thought he would?"  
"Nope... Little beauty isn't he? He's got your mouth and your eyes under those goggles I reckon.""  
Sherlock's lips smiled, Alan's warm breath on his face always made him feel sleepy...."You told Martha you couldn't see who he looked like?"  
"Happen I might of been winding her up about that...." Alan owned up.  
Sherlock was so tired, he could feel his eyes closing every few seconds .... suddenly he remembered... "Mycroft showed you the photo albums but you must have asked him to see them...."  
Alan kissed his hand.... "Can't get owt past you. I wanted to see you back then.... before I met you first."  
"Why?"  
"Not sure.... " Alan had wanted to get an idea of how Billy may look like growing up.

"Ruddy chair...... too bloody small and two bloody hard".... Alan's socked feet rested on the floor underneath Sherlock's bed and Lars had given him a blanket and spare pillow which Alan'd wedged behind his neck but it wasn't the lack of comfort keeping him awake.... it was sheer bloody dread of what tomorrow would bring......  
Sherlock couldn't sleep even though he was worn out. If he closed his eyes anything could happen to Alan or Billy..... he wasn't sure which of them was most at risk..... Under everything he loved most a long crack was spreading slowly , getting closer and closer to shattering his world into a million pieces.....

Riddick was trying to get as much of what he needed to say, straight in his head as he could....  
"Alan...?" Sherlock lay staring up into the dark above his head.  
Alan sat up with a jolt . "Aye? What's wrong?"  
"Sleep with me.... please?" Sherlock's voice said. "Please....there's room..."  
The need in Sherlock's voice bought Alan to his feet.

On the bed, despite everything Sherlock had said about them spooning to sleep, the Omega was laid with his face mere centimeters away from Alan's own.  
"What you did today.... Blew me away seeing you do that." Alan stroked the edges of Sherlock's hairline as his voice thickened with emotion.... "Never seen you look so set on doing something your way before...."  
"I never had a say before.... it was having a Royal Prince when I had Aleksander..... I'd to stay still on the bed on my back with my legs up in stirrups.... Charles just sat there ....." it made him feel ill just thinking about it.... "I feel different now... " Sherlock felt stupid saying it...."I feel ...." he searched for the right words....  
"Like you did summat good?" Alan asked.  
Sherlock smiled at the lunacy of being about to use Alan's favourite movie to explain it.... "Like I'm Spiderman and I've extra powers nobody else knew about" he said.  
Alan slid his fingers through the short lengths of Sherlock's hair .... " Spidey's got nothing on you, lad....all he does is swing about on webs. You just had a baby! You're the real hero!" 

 

Alan wasn't good at thinking like Sherlock was , he knew that...but he couldn't avoid it now.  
The guilt was eating away at him.  
What a shit situation to leave Sherlock in....  
You could have done better by them both.....you've let him down....he berated himself over and over....  
You can't stop him getting hurt now....  
He's tougher than he thinks he is. Today proved that.  
He's got reserves he didn't even know he had.  
So why aren't you telling him the truth you dopey bugger?  
You can't hide him from it.  
Deep breath in......  
Another................  
Say it. Get it done....................  
"Sherlock.... what happened at Greg's ..... What you said.... about me lying to you..... I ..... there's summat I should've talked to you about.... "  
Sherlock didn't move.....  
"Sherlock? You awake?" Alan gave it a minute.....  
Sherlock forced himself to give a soft sleepy mumble and snuggled closer.  
Alan gave a shaky sounding sigh that came from deep in his lungs.

I'm sorry Alan.....  
Don't say it.....  
I'm not ready.  
I'm not anyway ready to say goodbye......... 

 

Beep beeep beeeep  
Sherlcok jolted awake.  
Alan had moved back to the chair....his head had slid off the pillow and was awkwardly pressed against the wall.  
Beep beeep beeeep  
Oh fuck..... the alarm. Billy needs feeding!  
Sherlock felt disorientated and weak as he sat up. After all the worrying he'd had an hour of sleep. It was nowhere near enough.... he felt drugged.  
Beep beeep beeeep. The alarm was getting louder.  
Sherlock fumbled for his phone..... and pushed himself onto his feet. "Coming Billy" he lurched to his feet and froze....  
Over by the incubator he could see Mycroft sat waiting for him.... " Congratulations brother mine. He is perfect," Mycroft said...  
Sherlock looked from the brother he'd always loved to his tiny newborn son... His face twisted...knowing what this late night visit meant....  
"You are running out of time to speak with Alan on this or any other issue," Mycroft said softly as Billy started to protest against the delay ....  
"And whose fault is that?" Sherlock said fiercely..."How long?"  
"Once the paternity test is done in the morning ....a matter of hours," Mycroft heard himself say....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the patience...I know its worrying when anybody says the work has to go on hiatus for any reason....I am really grateful for all the support from everyone.  
> Hope you enjoy the penultimate update of this section of the story....


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